
Class-Jll^V 



Book. 




OK 



FRANCE, ENGLAND, RUSSIA, PRUSSIA, 
SARDINIA, AND AUSTRIA. 



RICHLY ILLUSTKAir.Ii WITH 



Portniite of imperial Soncrcigus 



AND THEIR 



Cabinet Ministers; 

WITH 

BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES, 

AN"I> 

AN INTRODUCTION BY WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT. 
EDITED BY W. H. BIDWELL. 





NEW YORK: 

ClIARLES ScRIBXER, 124 (tRAND StREET. 

1863. 
I. 






Entered accorJing to Act of Congress, in the year 186"2, by 

W. H. BIDWELL, 

in tlie Clerk's Office of the District Court for the Southern District of New York. 



OAMDUlDd E: 
Stereotyped aud I'rintcd at tlic Hiversidk Press, 

BV II (I IIOI'OIITON 



EDITOR'S PREFACE. 



Tiiio title of this work, " Imperial Courts," is selected 
in view of the high names and exalted position of those 
personages of various courts of whom portraits and brief 
biographical sketches are presented on these pages. 

An assembly of these personages convened in actual 
life might appropriately l)e called a Congress of Sover- 
eigns, attended 1)V their Ministers of State. Next in 
interest to such an august gathering on some great State 
occasion, is a collection of the jiortraits of men who have 
acted a distinguished part in the drama of history. And 
there is a feeling of pleasure in gazing upon the very 
form and features of those men of great intellectual power 
who have guided the affairs of State and controlled the 
destinies of empires. The galleries of Europe and the 
world are adorned and enriched with statues which almost 
speak, and with portraits which look out fresh and life- 
like from the canvas. All these are objects of interest 
wherever they are to be found. 

It falls to the lot of comparatively few of the human 
race to sit on thrones and wield the sceptres of power 
over millions of their fellow-men. Of these, a goodly 
number of living sovereigns are represented in tliis vol- 
ume, as well as the portraits of monarchs and other men 



iv EDITOR'S PREFACE. 

of renown whose life and deeds belong to the annals 
of the past. 

The Editor has availed himself of the best materials 
within his reach, both artistic and biograjihical, to collect 
in this work what may serve to gratify and instruct a 
large class of readers. 

The unusual number of plates has, of necessity, some- 
what narrowed down the limits of the letter-press no- 
tices and descriptions. The brief biographical and historic 
sketches are derived from various authentic sources, too 
numerous to be particularly mentioned. 

As a part of the actual history of some of the Courts, 
several scenes and events of unusual interest and im- 
portance are also depicted. One is the coronation cere- 
monies of the present Emperor and Empress of Russia, 
which presents a description of the gorgeous and imperial 
splendor of such an occasion as the world has seldom 
seen. Another is a description of the nuptial ceremonies 
in the present reigning Royal Famdy of England ; and still 
another represents, in striking contrast to the coronation 
and nuptial ceremonies, a most tragic scene in the court 
circle of the old Napoleon, memorable as the Ambassador's 
Ball. 

This volume, with its varied portraitrillustrations and its 
brief biographical sketches, imperfect as they are admitted 
to be, is respectfully commended to the favor and kind 
indulgence of the reader. 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE 
INTRODUCTION, BY WILLIAM CDLLEN BRYANT ix 

TiiK Court oi- Kuance 1 

Eugenie, Emimsess of Fkance, and Ladies ok her Couiit 5 

The Emperor Louis Napoleon III 9 

Eugenie, Empress of France 21 

Napoleon Bonaparte on the Morning op the Eighteenth 

BllUMAIRE 25 

The Divorce of Josephine 39 

Prince and Princess Napoleon 51 

Napoleon I. and the Concordat 55 

Louis XVL, King of France 59 

Queen Marie Antoinette 67 

The Princess Lamballe 87 

The Ambassador's Ball 89 

The Emperor Charlemagne 103 

The Court of England Ill 

Her Majesty, Queen Victoria Ill 

Ills RovAL Highness, Prince Albert 123 

The Prince of Wales, K. G 131 

Loud Palmerston 137 

Lord John Russeli 145 

Lord Clarendon 157 

The Duke op Wellington 1 C3 

Lord Ltndhurst 173 

Sir Robert Peel 181 

The Earl of Elgin 191 

Anne Boleyn and Henry VIII 197 

Queen Elizabeth 201 

Mary, Queen of Scots, 209 

Lady Jane Grey 225 

Queen Philippa and the Burgesses of Calais 241 



vi CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

kichaed iii. and the duke of buckingham 247 

Cromwell Dissolving the Long Parliament 251 

The Court of Russia 257 

The Emperor Alexander 1 258 

The Emperor Nicholas 2G9 

Alexander II., Eilperor of Russia 277 

The Empress of Russia 281 

Count Orloff 311 

The Court of Prussia 317 

Frederic William Louis 325 

The Queen of Prussia 331 

Prince Frederic William and Princess Victoria 333 

The Court of Sardinia 355 

King Victor Emmanuel 355 

Count de Cavouk 365 

The Court of Austria 395 

Francis Joseph, Emperor of Austria 397 

The Empress of Austria 401 

The Empress Maria Theresa 403 

Prince Kaunitz 407 

The Court of Persia 409 

The Shah op Persia 409 



ILLUSTRATIONS. 



— ♦ 

No. PAGE 

1. Euo£nie, Emtress of Fkance, and Ladies of her Couut.. 5 

2. Napolf.on III., Emperor of the French 9 

i. Eug£nie, Empress of the French 21 

4. The Morning of the Eighteenth Brcmaire 25 

5. The Divorce of the Empress Josephine 39 

6. Prince Napoleon and his wife, the Princess Clotilde... 51 

7. Napoleon inducing Pope Pics YII. to Sign the Concordat 55 

8. Loiis XVI. threatened bv the Mou on their visit to 

THE Tuileries 59 

9. Marie Antoinette going to Execution G7 

10. Condemnation of the Princess Lamballe 87 

11. Charlemagne 103 

12. Victoria, Queen of England Ill 

13. Ills Roval Highness, Prince Albert 123 

11. Ills Royal Highness, Albert, Prince of Walks 131 

15. Lord Palmerston 137 

16. Lord John Russell 145 

17. Eakl Clarendon 157 

18. The Duke of Wellington 103 

19. Lord Lyndhurst 173 

20. Sir Robert Peel 181 

21. The Earl of Elgin 191 

22. King Henry VIIL and Anne Boleyn 197 

23. Queen Elizabeth 201 

24. Mary, Queen of Scots 209 

25. Arrest of Lady Jane Grey 225 

2G. Queen Puilippa interceding for the Lives of the Bur- 
gesses of Calais, 1347 211 

27. Richard the Third endeavoring to persuade Buckingham 247 

28. Cromwell dissolving the Long Parliament 251 

29. Alexander L, Emperor of Russia 257 

b 



vili ILLUSTRATIONS. 

No. PAGE 

30. Nicholas, Emperor of Russia 269 

3L Alexander II., Emperor of Russia 277 

32. Her Majesty, the Empress of Russia 281 

33. Count Okloff 311 

34. Fkedeuic William Louis, King of Prussia 325 

35. Her Majesty, the Queen of Prussia 331 

3G. Princess Victoria (of England) and Prince Frederic 

William (of Prussia) 333 

37. Victor Emmanuel, King of Sardinia 355 

38. Count Cavour 365 

39. Francis Joseph, Emperor of Austria 397 

40. The Empress op Austria 401 

41. The Empress Maria Theresa and her Minister of State, 

Kaunitz 403 

42. His Majesty, Mahomet, the Shah of Persia 409 



INTRODUCTION. 



My friend, Mr. BidwcU, having desired that I should 
furnish an Introduction to his book, I have consented, 
perhaps thoughtlessly, since, on reflection, it seems to me 
that the title of .such a work is its own best introduction 
to the reader. The subject is one which awakens, and 
the satisfactory execution of which gratifies, a universal 
curiosity. 

The lowest figure in the Arabic numerals, denoting a 
single object, acquires, by the mere change of position, a 
very different signification. Placed at the head of a row 
of figures, it is made to denote at pleasure thousands, 
millions, decillions, — its importance and dignity increasing 
with every addition to its retinue, until it comes to ex- 
press aggregates too large to be grasped by the imagina- 
tion. So with sovereigns; the individual, who in private 
life might be a perfectly uninteresting and insignificant 
personage, becomes, when placed at the head of a great 
nation, in many important respects, great, — becomes the 
centre of a mighty influence, the object of universal olj- 
servation, and of a thousand hopes and fears, both for the 
country he governs and for the world, — a vast complica- 
tion stretching widely over the present and far into the 



X INTRODUCTION. 

future. History, which disdains to record the fortunes of 
private men, chronicles his actions, analyzes his character, 
searches into the causes which determine his policy, and 
seeks to define the effect of that policy on future genera- 
tions. In reading the narratives of the lives of sovereigns 
we read so many separate chapters in the annals of the 
human race. 

How vast is the influence which the sovereigns of the 
greater monarchies, designated in this volume as imperial, 
exercise over the welfare of mankind, the events of every 
year bear witness. They build up and they overthrow ; 
they distribute provinces and principahties among them- 
selves and the inferior sovereigns according to some capri- 
cious system which they call the balance of power; they 
indulge or they restrain the efforts of the human mind for 
a freer exertion of its faculties; they help forward or they 
hold back, sometimes for good and sometimes for evil, the 
great movements of the age, the tendencies towards change 
which are continually agitating the nations. When, not 
lone; since, Russia was about to aggrandize herself bv the 
conquest of Constantinople, France and England interfered, 
overawed Austria, dragged Sardinia into their league, and 
upheld the Turkish empire, tottering to its overthrow. It 
is the boast of Switzerland that she offers an asjlum to all 
those who, for opinion's sake, are hunted out of the neigh- 
boring kingdoms ; yet a fugitive from France or Austria, 
whom it pleases these powers to persecute unto strange 
cities, can enjoy the protection of the mountain republic 
no longer than they perniit. The liberty of the press, of 
which Belgium is proud, and justly, is a liberty qualified 



INTRODUCTION. xi 

by the good pleasure of France. But for France the Ro- 
man question -would have been settled long ago, and of 
the temporal power of the Pope not a fragment would 
now remain. But for Austria, perhaps we may say but 
for France, the province of Venetia, as its people earnestly 
desire, would now form a part of the kingdom of Italy. 
We of the United States, at this distance from the Old 
World, have often congratulated ourselves on our al^solute 
independence of those great powers which govern Europe, 
with what justice recent events have somewhat impleas- 
antly taught us. In the civil war which has so unfor- 
tunately arisen, we feel that France and England have the 
power to interfere greatly to oin* prejudice ; we know 
that they have the disposition to do so whenever an op- 
portune moment shall occur, and we watch with no little 
unea.siness the indications of such a design as they disclose 
themselves from time to time. Surely it is worth while; 
to study the history and character of tho.se with whom 
we are brought into such critical relations. 

It is a trite remark that those who are placed in sta- 
tions which insure them deference and homage, without a 
virtuous life, are very apt to despise the laws of .society 
and disregard justice, and that accordingly we are not 
to look to Courts for patterns of personal worth and con- 
scientious dealing. We cannot, however, .safely adopt 
the sweeping censure of the Spanish satirist Quevedo, 
as versified by Cowper in one of the most characteristic 
of his poems : — 

" Quevedo, as he tells liis sober tale, 
Asked, when in hell, to see the royal jail, 



xii INTRODUCTION. 

Approved their method in all other thing>i, 

' But where, good sir, do you confine your kings ? ' 

' Tliere,' said his guide ; ' the group is full in view.' 

' Indeed,' replied the Don, ' there are but few.' 

His black interpreter the charge disdained, — 

' Few, fellow ? there are all that ever reigned.' " 

The comment of Cowper on this is, — 

" Wit, undistinguishing, is apt to strike 
Tiie guilty and not guilty, both alike." 

And truly if we find that the sovereigns of our own time 
are not, in general, free from the vices of their class, we 
must admit that there are those among them, who, by 
their character or their acts, have illustriously distinguished 
themselves from the common crowd of monarchs. All 
agree that the present Queen of England is a pattern of 
private virtue ; that she opposes no obstacles to wholesome 
reforms, nor willingly bestows the honors, so largely in her 
gift, upon worthless favorites; and the Sovereign of Eng- 
land who is all this is all that a Sovereign of England 
can well be. Alexander the Second of Russia has broken 
the chains of forty millions of bondmen, making liis reign 
glorious by an act which places him among the benefactors 
of our race, to be remembered as long as Alfred the Great. 
The King of Sardinia, several years since, discarded the 
narrow hereditary policy of his kingdom, and granting the 
freedom of industry, of the press, and of religion, has found 
his reward in the gratitude, prosperity, and contentment 
of his people. These are monarchs reared in Courts, and 
subject to all the dangerous influences which surround the 



INTilODUCTIOX. xiii 

offspring of royal families. We should not inquire too 
jealously into tlioir motives ; they were proljably like 
those which govern men in lower stations, — of a mixed 
nature. 1 renuMulicr once asking an Italian statesman at 
Turin how it happened that Victor Euunainu'l had fol- 
lowed, in his 2»'ihlic conduct, maxims so different from 
those of most sovereigns. "The explanation," he replied, 
" is easy. He perceived that this is the true path to hon- 
orable distinction. Among absolute monarchs he would 
have been an insignificant follower ; among liberal princes 
he takes the lead aud his ambition is gratified." It was 
certainly, to say the least, a sagacious ambition. It may 
be that a like ainliition has governed the Russian Emperor. 
The love of glory is, in some form, the passion of all who 
reign ; but Alexander has covered himself with a glory 
such as no extent of conquests could possibly give, such as 
his predecessor on the throne would have failed to acquire, 
had he added to his dominion the whole Tuikish empire 
to its uttermost provinces. 

It remains that I should say a few ANords concerning the 
plan of the work. The biographical notices which Mr. 
Bidwell has bi'ought together include, not only the pei- 
sonal history of the lieads of the greater monarchies, but 
that of their most eminent counsellors ; men with whom 
they discussed their projects and who were their agents 
in executing them. The most important events of the 
nineteenth century are placed before the reader in some- 
Avhat rapid outline, and the narrative of one sovereign's 
reign is often the complement of that of some other. 
The portraits are the most accurate likenesses that could 



xiv INTRODUCTION. 

be procured, and the singular skill of the Riverside Press 
has lent its aid to give the letter-press a page so beau- 
tifully executed as to be excelled by nothing that has 

appeared in our country. 

WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT. 
New York, November 1, 1862. 



imperial Courts, 



THE COURT OF FEANCE. 

For more than a thousand years the history of the 
French Court has played a prominent part in the history 
of Europe, and iniluenced the destinies of the human race. 
The victory of Charles Martel over the Saracens at Towers, 
A. D. 732, saved Europe from the fanaticism of the Moslems; 
and his son Pepin, in the middle of the eighth century, 
planted firmly the Carlovingian dynasty all over Gaul, and 
made the Lombards his tributaries. Pepin's son Charle- 
magne, crowned by the Pope a. d. 800, revived in the West 
the grand project of a new Roman Empire, which emerged 
from the wreck into which Europe had been plunged by 
the barbaric invasions, consolidated and extended its power, 
and laid the basis of those institutions, in both Church and 
State, which have determined the course of subsequent his- 
tory. The brilliancy of Charlemagne's Imperial Court, sec- 
ond only to that of Byzantium, diffused its splendors over 
Europe, and attracted embassies from the remotest East ; 
while his patronage of learning and care for religion have 
invested his name with an imperishable renown. Italy, 
Germany, and the North of Spain were made subject to 
his arms, and the Saxons compelled to accept the Christian 
faith. Though his dream of universal empire was dissolved 
at his death, yet it has ever since inllamed the imagination 

1 



2 IMPERIAL COURTS. 

of the French nation and inspired their ceaseless efforts to 
control the policy of Europe. The foundations of the Feu- 
dal System were laid in the course of the ninth century, 
witli the rise of the kingdom of France. From the last 
quarter of the tenth century (a. d. 987), one single fxmily, 
the house of Capet, has held the throne of this mighty 
kingdom, — with the sole exception of the imperial reigns 
of the Bonapartes, — preferred by the French people, be- 
cause more daring in schemes of empire and more bold 
ill execution. 

During the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, the royal 
authority was consolidated by the subjection of the nobles, 
particularly under the sagacious reign of Philip Augustus, 
(1180-1229,) who raised the kingdom to a prominent posi- 
tion in European affiiirs. Louis IX., (1226-1270,) by his 
wisdom, and his heroic and saintly virtues, added fresh lus- 
tre to the French name. The protracted contest of more 
than a hundred years (1337-1453) between France and 
England ended in the expulsion of the latter from its con- 
tinental territories, leaving to France a more unfettered 
career. In the Eeformation century, Francis I. contested 
with tlie Emperor, Charles V., the rule of Europe. Had he 
not also i^laced the monarchy in opposition to Protestant- 
ism, he would have spared his country the fearful tale of 
the persecution of the Huguenots, and averted mairy of the 
ills which culminated in the French Revolution. 

Under Louis XIV. the Court of France reached the acme 
of its splendor and renown. French manners, literature, 
and taste, as well as French arms, ruled the continent. The 
glories of art were revived in the Renaissance; the French 
language became the speech of courtiers and diplomatists. 
The king who could say L'etat c'est 3Ioi gathered around 
him in Paris and Versailles all that was brilliant in the 
church, the senate, tlie camp, and the high noblesse, and 
made his Court tlie wonder of Europe. But in its very 
splendors were concealed the elements of dissolution ; for 



TIIK COIRT OF FRANCE. 3 

the welfare of the people was sacrificed to the glories of 
royalty, and morals and religion were corrupted by material 
magnificence. The expiring glories of the old monarchy 
still adorned the Court of Louis XVI., presided over by the 
beautiful and accomplished Marie Antoinette, whose tragic 
fate is mourned by thousands, who also see in the French 
Revolution the ri<i-hteous I'etribution of a demoralized social 
state. 

The corruption of the Court was followed by anarchy, 
and anarchy was reduced to order by the imperial genius 
of Napoleon Bonaparte, who made the glory of France his 
watchword, and brought Europe in subjection by his legions. 
His Imperial Court revived the traditional magnificence of 
earlier days, and was a fitting visible representative of the 
power and grandeur of France, again exalted to the hegem- 
ony of European States. Adorned by the grace of Jose- 
phine, and by the loveliness of Maria Louisa, it was the 
centre of all that was fair, noble, and renowned in the new 
empire, which, after a few short years, was again reduced 
to the narrow limits of the older monarchy. Under the 
restored Bourbons, more anxious for their own safety than 
for the aggrandizement of the nation, the Court was shorn 
of much of its hereditary magnificence. With the advent 
to power of the present Emperor, Napoleon III., the French 
people have again acquired a preponderating influence in 
the affairs of the continent; and, though the old families of 
the kingdom keep aloof from state aflairs, yet the Imperial 
Court, presided over by the lovely Eugenie, herself one of 
the people, rivals in beauty and magnificence the external 

splendor of the old regime. 

The rationale of court life is given by Burke: "It is of 

great importance (provided the thing is not overdone) to 

contrive such an establishment as must, almost whether a 

prince will or not, bring into daily and hourly offices about 

Lis jiersou a great number of his first nobility ; and it is 

rather a useful prejudice that gives them pride in such a 



4 IMPERIAL COURTS. 

servitude. Though they are not much the l^etter for a 
court, a court will be much the better for them." A re- 
public must find its compensation for the lack of the mag- 
nificence of royal or imperial pomp in the intelligence and 
vii'tue diffused through the whole of society. For better 
than the grandeur of a few families is the elevation of the 
mass of the peoj^le. 




.J ^ 
3 I 



EUGENIE, EMPRESS OF FRANCE, 

AND 

I^VDIES OF HER COURT. 



The beautiful print engraving witli this title is an accu- 
rate artistic copy of Wintorlialter's celebrated painting of 
the Empress Eugenie and her maids of honor. Winterhalter 
is the imperial court painter. This fact imparts confidence 
to the accuracy of the poi'traits which make up this inter- 
esting group. It represents the Empress of France sur- 
rounded by the ladies of her court. The original j^iiinting 
is the private property of the Empress, by whom it was 
lent, as a special favor, to the eminent house of Goupil, at 
Paris, for exhibition there and in the United States. It was 
much admired, both in New York and Boston. It has been 
I'eturned to its imperial owner, and now adorns the palace 
of the Tuileries. 

To assist the reader in fonning some adequate conception 
of the original painting and its artistic beauties, a descrip- 
tion of it is given, witli an account of the origin and design 
of it. It will call into requisition both the fancy and the 
imagination to expand the engraving into an ample paint- 
ing, with its gorgeous colorings and blooming roses, and 
almost living, breatliing portraits of these celebrated and 
beautiful ladies of tlie Imperial Court, 

Winterhalter, the court painter for France and England, 
was specially commissioned to paint a picture that should 
transmit to posterity the portrait of the present Empress, 



6 THE COURT OF FRANCE. 

and should also impart some idea of the personal appear- 
ance of the ladies of her coiu't. The result of this commis- 
sion is the magnificent picture which was on exhibition at 
Goupil's. It is fifteen by eleven feet in size ; the scene is 
a forest, near the palace of St. Cloud, the village of St. 
Cloud being visible in the distance between the majes- 
tic trees, the monotony of whose thick foliage is further 
broken by glimpses of sky seen here and there between 
the branches. In the foreground is the group of nine ladies, 
who, in all probability, will be taken in after ages as stand- 
ards of the female beauty of the nineteenth century. The 
Empress is seated upon a grassy bank, her calm classic 
features thrown mto bright relief by the dense foliage 
directly behind ; her right hand is slightly raised, in the 
act of passing a few honeysuckles to one of her compan- 
ions, and there is an air of queenly elegance, dignity, and 
repose about her person that cannot but strike the be- 
holder with admiration. Her toilet is perfect. Her white 
dress is trimmed with lilac ribbons ; and lilac and white 
flowers gem her golden hair. The ladies of her cortege are 
surrounding her, some standing and some reclining in easy 
and graceful attitudes upon the grass. They ai^e, indeed, 
all beautiful women, and either by accident or design repre- 
sent peculiar types of beauty. Of these ladies an American, 
the Baroness de Pierres, — formerly Miss Thorne, daughter 
of Colonel Thorne, of Sixteenth Street, New York, — bears 
the palm. Hers is acknowledged by artists, as well as oth- 
ers, to be the most exquisitely beautiful face and portrait 
in the group. It is a very young, girlish countenance, of 
which the artist allows us only to olitain the side view ; 
but this is quite sufficient to make the young New-Yorker 
the star of this aristocratic company. Then tliere is a per- 
fect type of English beauty in the portrait of an English 
lady, now the Marquise de Las Marismas, whose large blue 
eyes, delicate features, bright golden curls, and slight, ele- 
gant figure, fill up our very ideal of Saxon beauty. Stand- 



EUGENIE AND LADIES OF HER COURT. 7 

ing by this exquisite Saxon beauty is the dark -haired 
Madame Latour-Maubourg, who is a charming representa- 
tive of sunny France. Tlie Countess of Montebello may 
also serve as a type of French beauty, though there are 
many American ladies who strongly resemble her. She is 
perhaps tlie most prominent figure in the group, chielly 
because, being in the extreme foreground, hers is almost 
the only unbroken full-length figure in the picture. Be- 
sides this, her dress is of green, an obtrusive color at the 
best, when used for anything but foliage and grass, and 
here rendered doubly so by the contrast with the white 
dresses of the ladies near her. 

In the disposition of the figures the artist has exhibited a 
judicious taste. Thus the Marchioness de Latour-Maubourg, 
a lady with noble Italian cast of features, and dark hair and 
eyes, is seen leaning over and talking to the fair English 
blonde, — the contrast between the different styles of beauty 
being at once striking and pleasing. The dresses of the 
ladies, chiefly white, are pleasantly relieved by the colored 
ribbons, coquettishly displayed in various parts of their 
costume, and by the flowers with which some of them are 
carelessly playing. The details of the picture are lovely ; 
as, for instance, the vase round which vines are gracefully 
growing, and on the ground, the rich roses that the ladies 
have amused themselves in gathering. Indeed, these flow- 
ers are worthy of a more than passing notice ; they are 
certainly as near perfection as a floral representation on 
canvas can possibly be. 

There will, about a group of this kind, always be a cer- 
tain stiffness — an appearance of sitting for a portrait — 
which it is almost impossible to avoid. In the present pic- 
ture this stiffness of position is not as obvious as in most 
paintings of the kind, but still it is there to a small 
degree. Exception might also be taken to the unpleasant, 
dark sky, seen occasionally behind the foliage. 

This brief description of the history and design of the 



8 THE COURT OF FKANCE. 

original painting leaves it a subject for study, and its per- 
sonages objects for artistic admiration, from the position 
they occuj^y in the most briUiant court of the present 
age. 




ENG?£TJChW SARXMif. 



/^ P O [L E 



n\j p u 1 



THE EMPEROR LOUIS NAPOLEON IIL 



Perhaps in the whole history of human vicissitude thei'e 
is no career more extraordinary than tliat of Louis Napo- 
leon. In 1847 Louis Philippe was in the zenith of his 
power, and Louis Na])oleon a poor refugee in Loudon, 
known only to the puhlic by his expeditions to Strasburg 
and Boulogne, which seemed the enterprises of a madman. 
Who could have prophesied that before another year closed 
these two would have exchanged places, — Louis Philippe 
the exile, Louis Napoleon the constitutional head of France, 
soon to be its Emperor, Avith a power as despotic as that 
of Napoleon L ? The monarchy of Louis Philippe was rotten 
at the core, wliile there can be no doul)t now that in 1847 
the masses in France were in favor of the heir of Napoleon. 
Louis Philippe was old, and had lost much of his former 
energy; whereas, Louis Napoleon, in the prime of life, had 
given proofs not only of the most fearless coui'age, but, 
what was less known, of great mental power ; for his 
works indicate a mind of a very peculiar but yet of a 
very high order. His intimate friends, moreover, were the 
most origuial minded nnen of the time. Disraeli Avas his 
chosen associate. Walter Savage Landor Avas nearly on as 
intimate terms, and always entertained a high opinion both 
of liis moral and intellectual qualities. But Louis Napo- 
leon was more than a man of abiUty ; he had a great 
share of that mystical endowment AA'hich Goethe calls the 
demoniac faculty — that inexplicable residue which alone 
can explain the lives of those who affect the course of his- 
tory. This element shoAved itself in influencing the minds 



IQ THE COURT OF FRANCE. 

of those he came in contact with, in a degree out of all 
proportion with his personal prestige, or with his apparent 
abilities. He maintamed a position of the highest circles 
of London, never permanently conceded to a titular priuce 
of a parvenu family by the exclusive aristocracy of England, 
and finnly behevuag in his future destiny, he converted 
others to be zealots in the Napoleonic faith at a time 
when no creed appeared so visionary and unsubstantial. 

The time, however, at last had come when these dreams 
were to be reahties. Gradually the star of Napoleon III. 
arose, ascending higher and still higher till it stood still in 
the Imperial firmament of France. His star appears to be 
still in its zenith. 



A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 

Charles Louis Napoleon HI., Emperor of France, is the 
third and youngest son of Louis Bonaparte, King of Hol- 
land, and of Hortense Eugenie, daughter of the Empress 
Josejihine, first wife of Napoleon I., by her first husband, 
the Viscount de Beauharnais. He was born in Paris, at 
the palace of the Tuileries, on the twentieth of April, 1808. 
His father, Louis, was the fourth in age of the brothers 
of tlie Emperor; but Napoleon I., by the imperial edicts of 
1804 and 1805, set aside the usual order of descent, and 
declared the succession to the imperial crown to lie in the 
family of his brother Louis. Louis "Napoleon was the first 
prince born under the imperial rule in the direct line of 
succession ; and his birth was in consequence announced 
throughout the Empire by discharges of artillery and other 
solemnities. At his baptism, in 1810, the sponsors were the 
Emperor and the Empress Maria Louisa. From his inflmcy 
the young prince resided with his mother, and his educa- 
tion was conducted imder her superintendence. Until the 
abdication of Napoleon, with whom she was always in great 



THE EMPEROR LOUIS NAPOLEON IIL H 

favor, Hortense resided at Paris, where she had an hotel 
and a princely household, and went by the title of Queen 
of Holland, though her husband was no longer king. She 
was in flict separated, though not divorced, from her hus- 
band. Whilst Napoleon was at Elba, Louis Bonaparte in- 
stituted a suit in the courts at Paris to have his sons 
removed from their mother's charge and restored to him ; 
but the Emperor's return put a stop to the ^proceedings, 
and henceforth the children remained under the charge of 
their mother. During the Hundred Days she resided at 
the Tuileries, and did the honors of Napoleon's court. At 
the great assemblage on the Champ-de-Mai, Napoleon pre- 
sented his nephew Louis Napoleon, then seven years old, 
to the soldiers and to the deputies ; and the scene is said 
to have left a deep and abiding impression on the memory 
and the imagination of the boy. After the battle of Water- 
loo, Hortense and her sons attended NajDoleon in his retire- 
ment at Malmaison. Upon the restoration of the Bourbons 
she made a visit to Bavaria; but being forced to quit Gei*- 
many, she retired to Switzerland, residing first at Con- 
stance, and subsequently, in 1816, at the estate she had 
purchased of Arenenburg in the canton of Thurgau. Here 
she used with her sons to spend the summers ; the winters 
she passed in Rome, at the Villa Borghese, which belonged 
to her sister-in-law Pauline. Iler sons had thus ojipor- 
tunities of observing very different forms of government, 
and forming extensive connections with politicians and po- 
litical adventurers both in Switzerland and Italy, — oppor- 
tunities which the young Louis Napoleon by no means 
neglected. 

The scholastic education of Louis Napoleon was con- 
ducted under the direction of M. Lebas. He was for a 
time a student in the military college at Thun, and is said 
to have made much progress in the art of gunnery. In 
these years he also made several pedestrian tour.s, knap- 
sack on shoulder, among the wilder parts of Switzerland. 



12 THE COURT OF FRANCE. 

On the revolution of 1830, Louis Napoleon memorialized 
Louis Philippe for permission to return to France, offering 
to serve as a common soldier in the national army. The 
request was peremptorily refused ; and the government of 
Eome fancying that a meeting of the Bonaparte family in 
that city had a political tendency, Louis Napoleon and his 
brother were ordered to quit the papal territory. They 
retired to Tuscany, and at once united themselves with the 
Italian revolutionary party. In the insurrectionary move- 
ment of 1831, both the brothers took an active part; and 
imder General Sercognani they shared in the victories 
gamed over the papal troops. But the interference of 
Austria and France soon put an end to the progress of 
the popular arms. The elder brother. Napoleon, died at 
Pesaro, a victim to fatigue and anxiety, March 27, 1831; 
but Louis Napoleon succeeded, though with much difficulty, 
in escapmg from Italy, and with his mother returned to 
the chateau of Arenenburg. Here he settled quietly for 
a while, obtained letters of naturalization as a citizen of 
the canton of Thurgau, and pursued steadily his military 
and political studies. 

But a new career was gradually unfolding itself before 
him. His eldest brother died in infoncy ; the second, as 
we have seen, died in 1831 ; and in 1832 the only son of 
the Emperor, now known as Napoleon II., Ijut then as the 
Duke of Reichstadt, also died. Louis Napoleon had thus 
become, according to the decree of 1804, the immediate 
heir to the Emperor. Thenceforward the restoration of the 
empire, and the Napoleon dynasty in his person, became 
the predominant idea of his life. He labored hard, not 
only to fit himself for the lofty post his ambition led him 
to believe he should at no distant period occupy, but also 
to impress his countr_)anen with his views, and to accustom 
them to associate his name with the future. He now pub- 
lished his first work, "Political Eeviews," in which the ne- 
cessity of the Emperor to the State is assumed throughout 



THE EMPEROR LOUIS NAPOLEON IIL 13 

as the sole means of uniting republicanism with the genius 
and the requu'ements of the French people. 

At length he fancied the time had arrived fur attempt- 
ing to carry his great purpose into eftect. He had become 
convinced that the Fi'ench people were tired ol" their citi- 
zen king, and that it only needed a personal appeal on 
the jjart of the heir of the great Napoleon to rally the 
nation around his standard. He had obtamed assurances 
of support from military officers and others ; and finaUy at 
a meeting in Baden he secured the aid of Colonel Vaudry, 
the commandant of artillery in the garrison of Strasburg. 
Plis plan was to obtain possession of that fortress, and with 
the troops in garrison, who he doubted not would readily 
join liim, to march directly on Paris, which he hoped to 
surprise before the government could make sufficient ju-epa- 
rations to resist him. Having made all necessary pi-epani- 
lions, on the morning of the thirtieth of October, 1836, the 
signal was given by sound of trumpet, and Colonel Vaudry 
presented the Prince to the regiment, assembled m the 
square of the artillery barracks, telling the soldiers that a 
great revolution was begun, and that the nephew of their 
Emperor was before them. The soldiers who heard the ad- 
dress received him Avith acclamation ; some of his partisans 
had secured the prefect and other civil officers; and for a 
few minutes all seemed prospering. But the commanders 
of the other regiments were true to their duty. One of 
them denounced the Prince as an impostor, and the sol- 
diers hesitated. Louis was separated from his friends and 
hurried off a prisoner, and the affiiu' was speedily at an 
end. 

His mother, on the mstant of hearing of his arrest, 
hastened to Paris, and her appeals, and perhaps the want 
of sympathy which the Parisians exhibited, mduced the 
King to treat the aspirant to his throne with singular for- 
bearance. The only punishment inflicted was Ijanishment 
from France. He was accordingly embarked on board a 



14 THE COURT OF FRANCE. 

ship bound for the United States. He remained in the 
New World but a comparatively short time, though in that 
time he travelled over a considerable space iu South as well 
as in North America. Hearing of the illness of his mother, 
he hastened back to Europe, and was with her at her 
death, which occurred at Arenenburg, October 5, 1837. 
Hortense Bonaparte was devotedly attached to her son, 
and her affection was warmly returned. She was a woman 
of ardent feelings and of considerable mental powei'S. She 
was also fond of music, and composed several airs which 
have been much admired. 

Louis Napoleon now set hunself, by means of the press, 
to defend his conduct in regard to the aflah" at Strasburg? 
and the government of France, fearing the effect of his 
pertinacity, demanded his extradition from Switzerland. 
The cantons at first refused to comply, and expressed a 
determination to uphold his rights as a citizen of Thurgau. 
But Louis Phihppe sent an anny to enforce his demands, 
and Louis Napoleon, not wishing to mvolve Switzerland in 
difficulty, withdrew to England. Here for a couple of 
years he led the life apparently of a man of pleasm-e, but 
he was really revolving his lofty schemes, though he had 
as yet fonned but a very madequate notion of the obsta- 
cles which had to be overcome. In 1839 he published in 
London his famous "Idees NapoUoniennes" a remarkable illus- 
tration of the intensity of his o^vn grand thought. In 
August, 1840, he sailed from Margate in a hired steamer, 
accompanied by Count Montholin, the attendant of Napo- 
leon I. at St. Helena, a retinue of about fifty persons, and 
a tame eagle. He landed on the morning of the sixth 
of August at Boulogne, and marchmg with his followers 
straight to the bai-racks, he summoned the few troops 
there to join liim, or surrender. The soldiers did neither, 
and Louis Napoleon retreated to the hill on which stands 
the Napoleon column. Meanwhile the garrison mustered 
under aims, a few shots were fired, and the Prince, in 



THE EMPEROR LOUIS NAPOLEON IIL 15 

attempting to get back to the steamer, was arrested with 
most of his followers. 

This time the government was less placable. Louis Na- 
poleon was brought for trial before the House of Peers on 
a charge of treason. Berryer appeared as his advocate, 
and defended him with boldness and eloquence. The 
Prince himself made a speech, exhibiting great firmness 
and resolution. He was found guilty of a consph'acy to 
overturn the government, and sentenced to perpetual im- 
prisonment in a French fortress. He was sent to Ham, 
and there he remained till May, 1846, when, in the dress 
of a workman, he succeeded, by the assistance of Dr. Con- 
neau, the px'esent court phj'sician, in effecting his escape. 
Once more he took refuge in England. The revolution of 
February, 1848, found him ready to avail himself of any 
favorable cu'cumstances. But he had learned caution, and 
he bided his time. 

He had not to wait long. The vast power still remain- 
ing in the name of Napoleon had been sho^\-n in the 
unbounded enthusiasm everjTvhere displayed on the resto- 
ration to Fi-ance of the body of the great Emperor, and 
Louis Napoleon's partisans had taken care to keep the 
nephew of the Emperor prominently before the pubUc eye. 
At the election of deputies to the National Assemljly in 
June, 1848, Louis Napoleon was chosen for the department 
of the Seine, and three other departments. The Prince 
applied to take his seat. M. Lamartine on the twelfth of 
June moved the adoption of a decree banishing Louis 
Napoleon from France. A wann debate ensued, and Paris 
got into a state of great excitement. The discussion was 
renewed on the next day, and ended in the admission of 
the Prince, by a great majority, to take his seat in the 
Assembly. At the next election he was returned by an 
immense majority for the department of the Seine and five 
other departments. He took his seat on the twenty-sijcth 
of September. 



16 THE COURT OF FRANCE. 

Louis Napoleon's election as President, for a term ending 
May, 1852, followed in Deceml^er. From the moment of 
his election to this office he took a much more decided 
stand than either of those who had preceded him as head 
of the executive. There were symptoms of red republican 
discontent, but they were speedily checked. The contest- 
with the Legislative Assembly was more important, and of 
longer contmuance. But the Prince-President was looking 
to popular support, and he soon found the means of win- 
ning pul>lic flivor by his progresses through the country, 
his sounding and significant addresses, and the desire he 
constantly expressed for the exaltation of France in the 
eyes of the surrounding nations. His dismissal, at the be- 
ginning of 1851, of a man so able and so popiilar as 
Changarnier from the command of the army in Paris, 
showed that he would not permit himself to be bearded 
with impunity ; and rash as it might at first glance seem, 
it served to strengthen his position. He was met appar- 
ently by an equally firm resolution in the National Assem- 
bly, who, after repeatedly expressing want of confidence in 
his ministers, proceeded on the tenth of February, 1851, by 
a majority of one hundred and two, to reject the Presi- 
dent's Dotation Bill. In November the President sent a 
message to the Asseml:)ly proposing to restore universal 
suftiage, and in accordance w^ith the message a bill was 
introduced by the ministers, Init thrown out by a small 
majority. The contest was hastening to a close. In a 
public speech the President had denounced the Assembly 
as obstructive of all amelioratory measures, and a govern- 
ment journal now plainly accused that body of conspiracy 
against the Prince -President, and of designing to make 
Changarnier military Dictator. Paris was filled ■with troops. 
It was evident some decided measure was at hand. The 
leaders of the Assembly hesitated, and their cause was lost. 
On the second of December the Prince-President issued a 
decree dissolving the Legislative Assembly; declaring Paris 



THE EMrEROR LOUIS NAPOLEON IIL 17 

in a state of siege ; establishing universal sufTragc ; pro- 
posing the election of a President for ten years, and a sec- 
ond Cliambor or Senate. In the coui'se of the night one 
hundred and eighty meuibers of the Assembly were placed 
under arrest, and M. Thiers and other leading statesmen, 
with Generals Changarnier, Cavaignac, Lamoriciere, etc., 
were seized and sent to the Castle of Vincennes. This 
was the famous coiip d'6lat: it was eminently successfid, 
and an occasion of fearful slaughter. Niunerous other 
arrests and banishments occurred subsequently. On the 
twentieth and twenty-first of December a "plebiscite," em- 
bod3'ing the terms of the decree, with the name of Louis 
Napoleon as President, was adopted by the French people, 
the numbers, according to the official statement, being 
7,439,216 in the affirmative and C-40,737 negative. A de- 
cree, published on the day of the official amiouncement of 
the vote, restored the imperial eagles to the national colors 
and to the cross of the Legion of Honor. 

In January the new constitution was pubhshed ; the 
National Guard reorganized ; and the titles of the French 
nobility restored. 

It soon became evident that the restoration of the Em- 
pu*e was only a matter of time. Petitions which had been 
presented to the Senate were printed in the newspapers, 
praying for the establishment of the hereditaiy sovereign 
power in the Bonaparte family ; cries of " Vive VEinpe- 
reur V were heard in every public ceremonial in which the 
President took part ; and at length the President hunself^ 
in a speech to the Chamber of Commerce of Bordeaux, 
declared that "the empire is peace." On the twenty-first 
and twenty-second of November, the people were convoked 
to accept or reject a "plebiscite," resuscitating the imperial 
dignity in the person of Louis Napoleon, with hcredicity in 
his direct legitimate or adoptive descendants. The affirma- 
tive was declared to be voted by 7,804,189 to 231,145. 
The Prince, in formally accepting the imperial dignity, 

3 



18 THE COURT OF FRANCE. 

assumed the title of Napoleou III. The new Emperor 
was at once acknowledged by England, and subsequently, 
though not till after a greater or less delay, by the other 
leading powers of Europe. 

The career of the Emperor is too recent to require to 
be related in detail. As is well known, it has hitherto 
been a career of unljroken prosperity. In the January fol- 
lowing his acceptance of the empire, he married Eugenie, 
Comtesse de Teba, a lady who had the good fortune to 
wm general popularity, before she presented the Emperor 
and the nation with an "Enfant de France." From the 
first, as President as well as Emperor, Napoleon displayed 
a strong desire to draw closer the aUiance with Great 
Britain. The feelmg was warmly reciprocated in this coun- 
try, and the aggression of Russia, by leading the two pow- 
ers to unite their arms in resistance to the outrage, has 
served to render the union as ardent as such a union 
could possibly be. Should it be as lasting as it is ardent, 
— and as for the common good of the two countries it is 
most earnestly to be desired it may be, — it cannot fail to 
form one of the most abiding glories of the reign of Napo- 
leon. In March, 1854, France, in conjunction with England, 
declared war against Russia, and the soldiers of the two 
countries have stood side by side, winning equal renown, 
in many a famous field. As was to be expected in a war 
against such a colossal empu-e, the war has proved a long 
and costly one. But the very expenditure rendered neces- 
sary by it has served to show in the most strikmg man- 
ner the deep hold the Emperor has on the regard of the 
French peoj^le. It became necessary for the French gov- 
ernment, in December, 1854, to ask for a loan of 500,000,- 
000 francs : in ten days 2,175,000,000 Avere subscribed. 

Another loan was required in the following July, of 
750,000,000 francs, (£30,000,000,) the amount subscribed 
was 3,652,591,985 francs, (£146,103,680,) or nearly five 
times the amount required, and of this no less than 



THE EMPEROR LOUIS NAPOLEON IH. 19 

231,920,] 55 francs were made up of subscriptions of fifty 
francs and under. 

Tn April, 1 855, the Emperor and Empress visited Eng- 
land, and in the following August, Queen Victoria and 
Prince Albert visited Paris; and in each coimtry the re- 
ception (if the respective sovereigns was of the most splen- 
did, and with the people of the most enthusiastic, chai'acter. 
In May, 1855, the Emperor opened a Temple of Concord, 
the grand Exposition of the arts and industry of all na- 
tions, which had the effect of attracting to Paris the larg- 
est number of visitors almost ever known there. Paris 
itself too has been improved by new streets of almost 
unrivalled architectural splendor. 

In March, 1856, the conferences for negotiating a peace 
between the Western Powers and Russia opened at Paris. 
And on the sixteenth of the same month, the Emperor 
was made happy by the birth of a son and an heu' to the 
Imperial crown. 

The more recent history of the present Emperor of 
France is familiar to the pul)lic mind, and hardly requii'es 
to be I'ehearsed in fm'ther detail on these pages. 




E y G E M D E 



>.5 OF TUF 



EUGENIE, EMPRESS OF FRA.NCE. 



The full-length portrait of this distiiiguisheJ ornament 
of the French Court was engraved from a painting hy 
Winterhalter, and is accompanied by the foUowig sketch : 

Eugenie, Empress of France, and Countess -Duchess of 
Teba, was bom at Granada in Spain, May 5, 1826. She 
is the daughter of Donna Maria JManuola Kirkpatrick of 
Closebuni, Countess-Dowager de Montijos, Countess Mi- 
randa, and Duchess of Peraconda ; member of the noble 
order of Maria Louisa, and first lady of honor to the 
Queen of Spain. The father of this lady had been English 
consul at Malaga at the pei'iod of her marriage with the 
Coimt de Montijos, an otticer in the Spanish army, belong- 
ing to one of the most ancient of the noble families of 
Spain. He was connected, more or less closely, with the 
houses of the Duke de Frias, representative of the ancient 
Admirals of Castile ; of the Duke of Fyars, and others of 
the highest rank, including the descendants of the Kings 
of Arragon. The death of this noldeman, which occurred 
many years ago, left the Countess Montijos a widow, with 
a fortune adequate to the maintenance of her position, and 
two daughters, one of Avliom married the Duke of Alba 
and Bei-Avick, lineally descended from James II. and Miss 
Churchill. For Eugenie, the second daughter, a still higher 
destiny was reserved. In 1851 the Countess Teba, accompa- 
nied by her mother, paid a lengthened visit to Paris, and 
was distinguished at the various entertainments given at 
the Tuileries by the dignity and elegance of her demeanor, 
and by great personal beauty, of the aristocratic Enghsh 



22 THE COURT OF FRANCE. 

rather than the Spanish type. Her mental gifts were pro- 
portionably attractive ; for she is rejDorted to be naturally 
sinrilueUe, and her education, partly conducted in England, 
was very superior to that generally bestowed on Spanish 
women, who seldom quit the precincts of their native 
country. 

Shortly after the opposition of the other Northern Pow- 
ers had put an end to the idea of a luaion between the 
Emperor Louis Napoleon and the Princess Carola Wasa of 
Sweden, he apprised the council of ministers of his in- 
tended marriage with the daughter of the Countess Mon- 
tijos; a measure which excited some disapproval among 
them, and even led to their temporary withdrawal from 
office. During the short time which intervened between 
the pul^lic announcement of the approaching event and its 
realization, the Countess T^ba and her mother took up 
their abode in the palace of the Elysee. The marriage 
was celebrated at noon on the twenty-ninth of January, 
1853, at Notre Dame ; and the Emperor and Emjjress, after 
making their appearance some hours later on the balcony 
of the Pavilion de I'Horloge at the Tuileries, to receive 
the acclamations of the miUtitude, adjourned to the com- 
parative seclusion of St. Cloud. 

It is almost unnecessary to allude to the magnificence of 
the preparations made for the ceremony, as they are suffi- 
ciently recent to be fresh in the memory of the reader. 
However, the one item of forty-six hundred francs, ex- 
pended in Point d'Alen^on lace, will suffice to give an 
idea of their character. Although a union which should 
have added to the political importance of the nation might 
probably have been more immediately acceptable to it, no 
mark of honor and loyalty was witlilield from the Imperial 
bride. The dotation asked for her of one hundred and 
thirty thousand francs per annum (the same sum which 
had been granted to the Duchesse d'Orleans) was eagerly 
accorded ; and the municipal council of Paris voted six 



EUGENIE, EMPRESS OF FRANCE. 23 

hundred thousand franc?! for the pui'chase of a parure of 
diamonds, as a present from the city to the Empress. It 
may he imagined iiow much enthusiasm was excited among 
so impressible a })eople as the French by the purport of a 
letter which she addressed to M. Bezet, prefect of the 
Seine, m reply to this proposal. After warmly thanking 
the council for their token of regard, she declined the rich 
gift; alleging that the city was already overbunlened, and 
that the sum in question would be more usefully employed 
in the foundation of some charitable institution for the 
poor and destitute. In accordance with this suggestion, 
the money was devoted to an establishment for the main- 
tenance and education of sixty young girls chosen from 
the working classes of Paris. 

The life of the Empress Eugenie since her marriage has 
been comparatively uneventful ; made up of the ordinary 
routine of state etiquette ; of migrations to the various 
royal maisom-de-j)laisuncc, varied by an extended progress 
through France in company with her husband ; and a 
sojourn for the benefit of her health at Biaritz in the 
Pyrenees, wliieli has peculiar associations lor her, having 
been the favorite .'<ummer resort of her family in the days 
of her girlhood. On the sixteenth of April, 1855, the Em- 
peror and Empress of the French arrived in England on a 
short visit to the Qiiei'u, during which they proct'eded in 
state to the city, visited the Crystal Palace, etc., their stay 
terminating on the twenty-first. 

On the sixteenth of March, 1856, the Empress gave birth 
to a son, who is the heir apparent to the French Empire. 
When the Emperor took his departure for the seat of wpr 
in Italy, he appointed the Empress regent during his a1)- 
sence, May 3, 1859. A strong mutual affection is said to 
exist between the Emperor and Empress, which the birth 
and promise of their son has tended to deepen. This little 
aspirant to an imperial tlu'one may often be seen in 
the public parks and beautiful gardens with which Paris 



24 THE COURT OF FRANCE. 

abounds, sometimes mounted ou a little Arabian pony, at- 
tended by the Imperial Guard, and sometimes in an open 
carriage with his mother, or the Emj^eror. 

The ever -varying Goddess of Fashion, jJi'ivileged as she 
is to wliim and cajDrice, never received into her court a 
more changeful votary than Eugenie. She delights to 
startle the fashionable world with combinations of grace 
and elegance as original as striking. The celebrated hoop- 
skirt is of her creation. By her unrivalled taste she has 
made graceful simplicity and a judicious harmonizing of 
colors the true standard of elegance in a lady's dress. 

Since the death of a beloved relative, the Emjiress has 
suffered imder a deep melancholy; for which continued 
change of scene became necessary. Her religious views at 
the time became gloomy and ascetic, and she contemplated 
a pilgrimage to the Holy Land, as the only means her 
faith suggested of tranqiiillizing her mind. This event has, 
however, not yet taken place ; and, her health becoming 
better, she has resumed much of her early vivacity. 




M 



OaIJ 






a 



s^ 



NAPOLEON BONAPARTE, 



ON THE 



MORNING OF THE EIGHTEENTH BRTOLIIEE 



The memoralile event which the accompanying plate 
illustrates, was one of the tiirning points in the history of 
Napoleon. The overthrow of the Dii'ectory became indis- 
pensable to Napoleon's progress ; and on his return from 
Egypt he unmediately commenced the intrigues which led 
to the accomplishment of his object. A coalition with the 
Abbe Sieyes enabled him, with his secret friends in the 
Council of Five Hundred, to efTect the bold stroke which 
on the ninth of November, 1799, put an end to the strong 
and popular government of the Directory. On the morn- 
ing of the day resolved upon, all the generals and officers 
whose adherence to Bonaparte had been secured, were in- 
vited to repau" to Napoleon's house at six o'clock. Three 
regiments of cavalry were appointed to be ready in the 
Champs Elys^es, under pretence of being reviewed by 
General Bonaparte. As an excuse for assigning so unusual 
an hour of rendezvous, it was said that the General was 
obliged to set out on a journey. Many officers understood 
or guessed what was to be done, and came armed with 
pistols as well as swords. Some, however, were without 
such information or presentiment. Le Febvre, the com- 
mandant of the guard of the Representative Bodies, sup- 
posed to be devoted to the Directory, had only received 
an invitation to attend this military assembly on the pre- 
ceding midnight. Bernadotte, uuacquaiuted with the pro- 

4 



26 THE COURT OF FRANCE. 

ject, was, however, brought to Bonaparte's house by his 
brother Joseph. 

The surprise of some, and the anxious curiosity of all, 
may be supposed, when they found a military levee so 
numerous and so brilliant assembled at so early an hour. 

Early as Bonaparte's levee had taken place, the Council 
of Ancients, secretly and hastily assembled, had met stiU 
earlier. The ears of all were fiUed l^y a report, generally 
cu'culated, that the Ee^jublican party had formed a daring 
plan for givmg a new popular impulse to the government. 
It was said that the resolution was taken at the Hotel de 
Sahn, amongst the party who still adopted the principles 
of the old Jacobins, to connect the two representative 
bodies mto one National Assembly, and invest the powers 
of government in a Committee of Public Safety, after the 
model of what was called the Eeigu of Terror. Circulated 
hastily, and with such addition to the tale as rumors 
speedily acquire, the mind of the Council of Ancients was 
agitated with much fear and anxiety. Cornudet, Lebnm, 
and Fargues made glowing speeches to the Assembly, in 
which the terror that their language inspired was rendered 
greater by the mysterious and indefinite manner in which 
they expressed themselves. They spoke of personal danger 
— of bemg overawed in their dehberations — of the fall of 
liberty, and of the approaching destruction of the republic. 
" You have but an uastant to save France," said Cornudet ; 
" permit it to pass away, and the country will he a mere 
carcass, disjDuted by the vultures, whose prey it must be- 
come." Though the charge of consphacy was not distinctly 
defined, the measures recommended to defeat it were suffi- 
ciently decisive. 

By the 102d, 103d, and 104th articles of the Constitu- 
tion it was provided that the Council of Ancients might, 
if they saw it expedient, alter the place where the legis- 
lative bodies met, and convoke them elsewhere ; a provision 
designed doubtless to prevent the exercise of that comjjul- 



NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 27 

siou which the Parisians had at one time assumed over 
the National Assembly and Convention. Tiiis power the 
Council oi" Ancients now exercised. By one edict the sit- 
tings of the two councils were removed to St. Cloud ; by 
another, the council delegated to General Bonaparte full 
power to see this measure carried into effect, and vested 
him for that purpose with the military command of the 
department. A state mes.senger was sent to communicate 
to the General these important measures, and require his 
presence in the Council of Ancients ; and this was the 
crisis which he had so anxiously expected. 

A few words deterniined the numerous l)()dy of ollicers, 
by whom the messenger found him surrounded, to concur 
with him without scruple. Even General Le Febvre, who 
commanded the guard of the legislative bodies, declared 
his adhesion to Bonaparte. 

The Directory had not even yet taken the alarm. Two 
of them, indeed, Sieyes and Duco.s, being in the secret of 
the conspiracy, were already at the Tuilcries, to second the 
movement which was preparing. It is said that Barras had 
seen them pass in the morning, and as they were both 
mounted, had l^een much amused with the awkward horse- 
manship of Sieyes. He little guessed on what expedition 
he was bound. 

When Bonaparte sallied forth on horseback, and at the 
head of such a gallant cavalcade of officers, his first move- 
ment was to assume the command of the three regiments 
of cavalry, already drawn u]) in the Champs Elysees, and 
to lead them to the Tuileries, where tlie Council of An- 
cients expected him. He entered their hall, surrounded by 
his military staff, and l)y those other genei'als, whose name 
carried the memory of so many victories. " You ai'o the 
wisdom of the nation," he said to the council. " I come, 
surrounded by the generals of the Republic, to promise 
you their support. I name Le Febvre my lieutenant. Let 
us not lose time looking for precedents. Nothing in history 



28 THE COURT OF FRANCE. 

ever resembled the end of the eighteenth century — noth- 
ing in the eighteenth century resembled this moment. 
Your wisdom has devised the necessary measin-e, our arms 
shall put it mto execution." He announced to the military 
the will of the council, and the command with which they 
had intrusted him ; and it was received with loud shouts. 

In the meanwhile the three directors, Barras, Gohier, and 
Moulins, who were not in the secret of the morning, began 
too late to take the alarm. Moulins proposed to send a 
battalion to surround the house of Bonaparte and make 
prisoner the General, and whomsoever else they found 
there. But they had no longer the least influence over 
the soldiery, and had the mortification to see their own 
personal guard, when summoned by an aid -de -camp of 
Bonaparte, march away to join the forces which he com- 
manded, and leave them defenceless. 

Barras sent his secretary, Bottot, to expostidate with 
Bonaparte. The General received him with great haughti- 
ness, and pul^licly before a large group of officers and sol- 
diers upbraided him with the reverses of the country; not 
m the tone of an ordmary citizen, possessing but his own 
individual interest m the fate of a great nation, but like a 
jarince, who, returning from a distant expedition, finds that 
in his absence his deputies have abused their trust, and 
misruled his dominions. " What have you done," he said, 
" for that fine France, which I left you in such a briUiant 
condition ? I left you peace, I have found war — I left 
you the wealth of Italy, I have found taxation and misery. 
"Where are the hundred thousand Frenchmen whom I have 
known ? — all of them my companions m glory ? They 
are dead." It was plain, that even now, when his enter- 
prise was but commenced, Bonaparte had already assumed 
that tone which seemed to account eveiy one answerable 
to him for deficiencies in the pubhc service, and he him- 
self responsible to no one. 

Barras, overwhelmed and stunned, and afraid, perhaps, 



NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 29 

of iin2)c'achmt'ut lur his alleged peculations, belied the cour- 
age which he was once supposed to possess, and submitted 
iu thi" most abject terms to the will of" the victor. He 
sent iu his resignation, in which he states, " that the weal 
of the Republic, and his zeal for liberty alone, could have 
ever induced him to undertake the burden of a public 
office ; and that, seeing the destinies of the Repuljlic were 
now in the custody of her youthfid and invincible general, 
he gladly resigned his authority." He left Paris for his 
country-seat, accompanied by a guard of cavahy, which 
Bonaparte ordered to attend him, as much perhaps to 
watch his motions as to do him honor, though the last 
was the ostensible reason. His colleagues, Gohier and 
Moulins, also resigned their office; Sieyes and Duces had 
already set the example ; and the Constitutional Executive 
Council was dissolved, while the real power was vested in 
Bonaparte's single person. Cambaceres, minister of justice, 
Fouche, mmister of police, with all the rest of the admin- 
istration, acknowledged his authority accordingly ; and he 
was thus placed in full possession as Avell of the civil as 
of the miUtary power. 

The Coimcil of Five Hundred, or rather the repubhcan 
majority of that body, showed a more stubborn temper; 
and if, instead of resignmg, Barras, Goliiei', and Moidins 
had imited themselves to its leaders, they might perhaps 
have given trouble to Bonaparte, successful as he had 
hitherto been. 

This hostile council only met at ten o'clock on that 
memorable day, when they received, to their surprise, 
the message intimating that the Council of Ancients had 
changed the place of meeting from Paris to St. Cloud, and 
thus removed their debates from the neighborhood of the 
popidace, over whom the old Jacobinical principles might 
have retahied influence. The laws as they stood afforded 
the young council no means of evading compliance, and 
they accordmgly adjourned to meet the next day at St. 



30 THE COURT OF FRANCE. 

Cloud, with unabated resolution to maintain the democrat- 
ical part of the constitution. They separated amid shouts 
of " Long live the Kepubhc and the Constitution ! " which 
were echoed b}'- the galleries. The tricoteuses, and other 
more zealous attendants on their debates, resolved to trans- 
fer themselves to St. Cloud also, and appeared there in 
considerable numbers on the ensuing day, when it was evi- 
dent the enterprise of Sieyes and of Bonaparte must be 
either perfected or abandoned. 

The contendmg parties held council all the evening, and 
deep into the night, to prepare for the final contest on 
the morrow. Sieyes advised that forty leaders of the oppo- 
sition should be arrested ; but Bonaparte esteemed himself 
strong enough to obtain a decisive victory, without resort- 
ing to any such obnoxious violence. They adjusted their 
plan of oj)erations in both councils, and agreed that the 
government to be estabhshed should be provisionally in- 
trusted to three consuls, Bonaparte, Sieyes, and Ducos. 
Proper arrangements were made of the armed force at St. 
Cloud, and the command was confided to the zeal and 
fidelity of Murat. Bonaparte used some interest to pre- 
vent Beruadotte, Jourdan, and Augereau from attendmg at 
St. Cloud the next day, as he did not expect them to 
take his part ui the approaching crisis. The last of these 
seemed rather hurt at the want of confidence which this 
caution implied, and said : " What, General, dare you not 
trust your own Httle Augereau ? " He went to St. Cloud 
accordingly. 

Some preparations were necessary to put the palace of St. 
Cloud in order to receive the two coimcils : the Orangerie 
being assigned to the Council of Five Hundred ; the Gal- 
lery of Mars to that of the Ancients. 

In the CoimcU of Ancients, the Moderes, having the ma- 
jority, were prepared to carry forward and complete their 
measures for a change of government and constitution. 
But the minority, having raUied after the surprise of the 



NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 31 

preceding day, were neither silent nor passive. The Com- 
mission of Inspectors, whose duty it was to convene the 
council, were inculpated severely lor Iiaving omitted to 
give information to several leading members of the minor- 
ity, of the extraordinary convocation which took place at 
such an unwonted hour on the morning preceding. The 
propriety, nay the legality, of the transferrence of the legis- 
lative bodies to St. Cloud was also challenged. A sharp 
debate took place, which was terminated by the appear- 
ance of Napoleon, who entered the hall, and harangued the 
members by permission of the president. " Citizens," said 
he, " you are placed upon a volcano. Let me tell you the 
truth with the frankness of a soldier. Citizens, I was re- 
maining tranquil with my family, when the commands of 
the Council of Ancients (ailed me to arms. I collected 
my brave mOitary companions, and brought forward the 
arms of the coimtry in obedience to you, who are the 
head. We are rewarded with calumny — they compare me 
to Cromwell — to Cajsar. Had I desired to usurp the su- 
preme authority, I have had opportimities to do so before 
now. But I swear to you the country has not a more 
disinterested patriot. We are surroimded by dangers and 
by civil war. Let us not hazard the loss of those advan- 
tages for which we have made such saci'ifices, — Liberty 
and Equality." 

" And the Constitution ! " exclaimed Linglet, a democratic 
member, interrupting a speech which seemed to be design- 
edly vague and inexplicit. 

" The Constitution ! " answered Bonaparte, giving way to 
a more natin-al expression of his feelings, and avowing his 
object more clearly than he had yet dared to do ■^— " It 
was violated on the eighteenth Fructidor — violated on the 
twenty-second Floreal — violated on the thu'tieth Prau'ial. 
AU parties have invoked it — all have disregarded it in 
turn. It can no longer be a means of safety to any one, 
since it obtains the respect of no one. Since we cannot 



32 THE COURT OF FRANCE. 

preserve the Constitution, let us at least save Liberty and 
Equality, the foundations on which it is erected." He went 
on in the same strain, to assure them, that for the safety 
of the Repuljlic he relied only on the wisdom and power 
of the Council of Ancients, since in the Council of Five 
Hundred were found those men who desired to bring back 
the Convention, with its revolutionary committees, its scaf- 
folds, its j)opular insurrections. " But I," he said, " will save 
you from such horrors — I and my brave comrades at arms, 
whose swords and caps I see at the door of the hall ; and 
if any hired orator shall talk of outlawry, I will appeal to 
the valor of my comrades, with whom I have fought and 
conquered for liberty." 

The Assembly invited the General to detail the par- 
ticulars of the conspiracy to which he had alluded, but he 
confined himself to a reference to the testimony of Sieyes 
and Ducos ; and again reiterating that the Constitution 
could not save the country, and inviting the Council of 
Ancients to adopt some course which might enable them 
to do so, he left them, amid cries of " Vive Bonaparte ! " 
loudly echoed by the military in the court-yard, to try the 
effect of his eloquence on the more unmanageable Council 
of Five Hundred. 

The deputies of the younger council having found the 
place designed for their meeting filled with workmen, were 
for some time in a situation which seemed to resemble the 
predicament of the National Assembly at Versailles, when 
they took refuge in a tennis-court. The recollection was 
of such a nature as inflamed and animated their resolution, 
and they entered the Orangerie, when at length admitted, 
in no . good humor with the Coimcil of Ancients, or with 
Bonaparte. Proposals of accommodation had been circu- 
lated among them ineffectually. They would have admif^ 
ted Bonaparte mto the Directory, but refused to consent 
to any radical change in the Constitution of the year 
Three. 



NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 33 

The debate of the clay, remarkable as the last in Avhich 
the Republican party enjoyed the full freedom of speech in 
France, was opened on the nineteenth Brumau'e, at two 
o'clock, Lucien Bonaparte being president. Gaud in, a mem- 
ber of the moderate party, began by moving that a com- 
mittee of seven members should be formed, to report upon 
the state of the Republic ; and that measures should be 
taken for opening a correspondence with the Council of 
Ancients. He was interrupted by exclamations and clamor 
on the part of the majority. 

'• The Constitution ! The Constitution or Death ! " was 
echoed and reechoed on every side. " Bayonets frighten 
us not," said Delbrel, " we are freemen." 

" Dowm with the Dictatorship — no Dictators ! " cried 
other members. 

Lucien in vain endeavored to restore order. Gaudin was 
dragged from the tribune ; the voice of otlicr moderates 
was ovei'powered by clamor ; — never had the party of 
democracy shown itself fiercer or more tenacious than 
when about to receive the death-blow. 

" Let lis swear to preserve the Constitution of the year 
Three ! " exclaimed Delbrel ; and the applause which fol- 
lowed the proposition was so general, that it silenced all 
resistance. Even the members of the modei\ite party — 
nay, even Lucien Bonaparte himself — were compelled to 
take the oath of fidelity to the Constitution, whidi he and 
they were leagued to destroy. 

" The oath you have just taken," said Bigonnet, " will 
occupy a place in tlie annals of history, beside the cele- 
brated vow taken in the tennis-court. The one was the 
foundation of liberty, the other shall consolidate the struc- 
ture." In the midst of this femientation, tlie letter con- 
taining the resignation of Barras was read, and received 
with marks of contempt, as the act of a soldier desert- 
ing his post in the time of danger. The moderate party 
seemed silenced, overpowered, and on the point of coalescing 



34 THE COURT OF FRANCE. 

with the great majority of the council, when the clash of 
arms was heard at the entrance of the apartment. All 
eyes were turned to that quarter. Bayonets, drawn sahres, 
the plumed hats of general officers and aids-de-camp, and 
the caps of grenadiers were visible without, while Napoleon 
entered the Orangerie, attended by four grenadiers belong- 
ing to the constitutional guard of the councils. The sol- 
diers remained at the bottom of the haU, while he advanced 
with a measm-ed step and uncovered, about one tlihd up 
the room. 

He was received with loud murmurs. " What ! drawn 
weapons, armed men, soldiers ia the sanctuary of the 
laws ! " exclaimed the members, whose courage seemed to 
rise against the display of force with which they were 
menaced. All the deputies arose, some rushed on Bona- 
parte and seized hun by the collar ; others called out : 
"Outlawry! — outlawry! — let him be proclaimed a traitor!" 
It is said that Arena, a native of Corsica Hke himself, 
aimed a dagger at his breast, which was only averted by 
the interposition of one of the grenadiers. The fact seems 
extremely doubtful, though it is certain that Bonaparte 
was seized by two or three members ; while others ex- 
claimed : " Was it for this you gained so many victories ? " 
and loaded him with reproaches. At this crisis a party of 
grenadiers rushed into the hall with drawn swords, and 
extracting Bonaparte from the deputies, bore him off in 
their arms breathless with the scuffle. 

It was probalily at this crisis that Augereau's faith m 
his ancient general's fortune began to totter, and his revo- 
lutionary principles to gain an ascendance over his military 
devotion. "A fine situation you have brought yourself 
into," he said to Bonaparte ; who answered sternly : " Au- 
gereau, things were worse at Areola. Take my advice 
— remain quiet, in a short tune aU this will change." 
Augcreau, whose active assistance and cooijeration might 
have been at tliis critical period of the greatest conse- 



•NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 35 

quence to the council, took the hint, and continued pas- 
sive. Jourdan and Bernadotte, who were ready to act on 
the popular side, had the soldiers shown the least hesi- 
tation in yielding obedience to Bonaparte, perceived no 
opening of which to avail themselves. 

The council remained m the highest state of commotion, 
the general voice accusing Bonaparte of having usurped 
the supreme authority, calling for a sentence of outlawry, 
or demanding that he should be brought to the bar. " Can 
you ask me to put the outlawry of my own brother 
to the vote ? " said Lucion. But this appeal to his per- 
sonal situation and feeliags made no impression upon 
the Assembly, Avho continued clamorously to demand the 
question. At length Lucien flung on the desk his hat, 
scarf, and other parts of his olKcial dress. "Let me be 
rather heard," he said, " as the advocate of him whom 
you falsely and rashly accuse." But this request only 
added to the tumult. At this moment a small body of 
grenadiers, sent by Napoleon to his brother's assistance, 
marched into the ludl. 

They were at first received with applause ; for the coun- 
cil, accustomed to see the triumph of democratical opinions 
among the military, did not doubt that they were deser<> 
ing their general to range themselves on the side of the 
deputies. Then* appearance was but momentary — they 
instantly left the hall, carrying Lucien in the centre of the 
detachment. 

Matters now were come to extremity on either side. 
The council, thrown into the greatest disorder by these 
repeated military incursions, remained in violent agitation, 
furious against Bonaparte, but without the cahnness neces- 
sary to adopt decisive measures. 

Meantime the sight of Napoleon, almost breathless, and 
bearing marks of personal violence, excited to the highest 
the indignation of the military. In broken words he told 
them, that when he wished to show them the road to lead 



30 THE COURT OF FRANCE. 

the country to victory and fame, "they had answered him 
with daaro-ers." 

Do 

Cries of resentment arose from the soldiery, augmented 
when the party sent to extricate the president brought 
huu to the ranks as to a sanctuary. Lucien, who seconded 
his brother admirably, or rather who led the way in this 
perilous adventure, mounted on horseback instantly, and 
called out in a voice naturally deep and sonorous: "Gen- 
eral, and you soldiers ! The President of the Council of 
Five Hundred proclauns to you, that factious men, with 
drawn daggers, have interrupted the deliberations of the 
Assembly. He authorizes you to employ force against 
these disturbers. The Assembly of Five Hundred is dis- 
solved ! " 

Murat, deputed by Bonaparte to execute the commands 
of Lucien, entered the Orangerie with drums beating, at 
the head of a detachment with fixed bayonets. He sum- 
moned the deputies to disperse on their perU, while an 
officer of the constitutional guard called out he could be 
no longer answerable for their safety. Cries of fear became 
now mingled with vociferations of rage, execrations of ab- 
horrence, and shouts of " Vive la Bcjmblique." An officer 
then mounted the president's seat, and summoned the rep- 
resentatives to retire. " The General," said he, " has given 
orders." 

Some of the deputies and spectators began now to leave 
the hall ; the greater part continued firm, and sustained 
the shouts by which they rejn'obated this mihtary intru- 
sion. The drums at length struck ujJ, and drowned further 
remonstrance. 

" Forward, grenadiers," said the officer who commanded 
the party. They levelled their muskets, and advanced as 
if to the charge. The deputies seem hitherto to have 
retained a lingering hope that their persons would be re- 
garded as inviolable. They now fled on all sides, most of 
them jmnping from the windows of the Orangerie, and 



NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 37 

leaving behind tlioni their official caps, scarfs, and gowns. 
Li a veiy few minutes the apartments were entirely clear; 
and thus, furnishing at its conclusion a striking parallel to 
the scene which ended the Long Parliament of Cliarles the 
First's time, terminated the last Democratical Assembly of 
France. 



THE DIVORCE OF JOSEPHINE. 



It Avas Fouclio who first ventured to touch the fatal 
string of the huperial divorce. One Sunday, at Fontaine- 
bleau, he drew Josephme aside into a recess of a window, 
and, after dweUing on the necessities of the empire, gave 
the hint of a separation; which he represented as tlie most 
sublime of sacrifices. Josephine instantly ordered him out 
of her presence, and went to demand of Napoleon whether 
the minister had any authority for this proceedmg. The 
Em[)eror answered in the negative ; but when Josephuie 
went on to demand the dismissal of Fouche, he refused to 
comply. From that hour she must have been convinced 
that her doom was fixed. 

Napoleon cherished a strong attachment to his little 
grandchild, the son of Hortense and of his brother Louis. 
The boy was extremely l)eautiful, and developed all those 
noble and spirited traits of character which peculiarly de- 
lighted the Emperor. Napoleon had apparently determined 
to make the young prince his heir. This was so generally 
tlie understanding, both in France and in Holland, that 
Josephine was quite at ease, and serene days dawned agam 
upon her heart. 

Early in the spring of 1807 tliis child, upon whom such 
destinies were depending, then five years of age, was seized 
suddenly and violently with the croup, and in a few hours 
died. The blow fell iipon the head of Josephine with most 
appalling power. Deep as was her grief at the loss of the 
child, she was overwhelmed with uncontrollable anguish in 
view of those fearful consequences which she shuddered to 



40 THE COURT OF FRANCE. 

contemj)late. She knew that Naijoleon loved her fondly, 
but she also kuew the strength of his ambition, and that 
lie would make any sacrifice of his affection, which, in his 
view, would subserve the interests of his power and his 
glory. For three days she shut herself up in her room, 
and was continually bathed m tears. 

The sad intelligence was conveyed to Napoleon when he 
was far from home, ui the midst of the Prussian campaign. 
He had been victorious, almost miraculously victorious, 
over his enemies. He had gained accessions of power such 
as, in the wildest dreams of youth, he had hardly im- 
agined. All opposition to his sway was now apparently 
crushed. Napoleon had become the creator of kings, and 
the proudest monarchs of Europe were constrained to do 
his bidding. It was in an hour of exultation that the 
moui'nful tidings I'eached him. He sat down in silence, 
buried his face in his hands, and for a long time seemed 
lost in the most painful musings. He was heard mourn- 
fully and anxiously to repeat to liimself again and again, 
" To whom shall I leave all this ? " The struggle in his 
mind between his love for Josephme and his ambitious de- 
sire to found a new dynasty, and to transmit his name and 
fame to all posterity, was fearful. It was manifest in his 
cheek, in his restless eye, in the loss of appetite and of 
sleep. But the stern wiU of Bonaparte was unrelenting in 
its pm-poses. With an energy which the world has never 
seen siu'passed, he had chosen his part. It was the pur- 
pose of his soul — the purpose before which everything had 
to bend — to acquire the glory of making France the most 
illustrious, powerful, and hajopy nation earth had ever seen. 
For this he was ready to sacrifice comfort, ease, and his 
sense of right. For this he was ready to sunder the 
strongest ties of affection. 

Josephine knew Napoleon. She was fiUly aware of his 
boundless ambition. With almost insupportable anguish 
she wept over the death of this idolized child, and, with a 



THE DIVORCE OF JOSEPHINE. 41 

trembling heart, awaited her husband's return. Mysterious 
hints began to fill the journals, of ihc couteniplated divorce, 
and of the alliance of Napoleon with various princesses of 
foreign courts. 

In October, 1807, Napoleon returned from Vienna. He 
greeted Josephine -with the greatest kindness, but .she soon 
perceived that his mind was ill at ease, and that he was 
pondering the fearful question. He appeared sad and em- 
barrassed. He had frequent private interviews with his 
ministers. A general feeling of constraint pervaded the 
court. Napoleon scarcely ventured to look upon his wife, 
as if apprehensive that the very sight of one whom he 
had loved so well might cause him to waver in his Cwm 
purpose. Josephine was in a state of the mcjst feverish 
solicitude, and yet was compelled to appear calm ami un- 
constrained. As yet she had only fearfid forebodings of her 
impending doom. She watched, with most excited appre- 
hension, every movement of the Emi)eror's eye, every in- 
tonation of his voice, every sentiment lie uttered. Each 
day some new and trivial indication confirmed her ihnra. 
Her husband became more reserved, alisented himself Irom 
her society, and the private access between their apartments 
was closed. He now seldom entered licr room, and when 
he did so, he invariably knocked. Ami yet not one word 
had passed between him and Josephine upon the fearful 
subject. Whenever Josephine heard the sound ol' his ap- 
proaching footstej)S, the fear that he was coming with the 
terrible announcement of se{)aration innncdiately caused 
such violent palpitations of the heart, that it was with the 
utmost dilhculty she could totter across the floor, even 
when supporting herself by leaning against the walls, and 
catching at the articles of furniture. 

The months of October and November passed away, and, 
while the Emperor was discussing with his cabinet the al- 
liance into Avhich he should enter, he had not yet sum- 
moned com'age to break the subject to Josephine. The 

6 



42 THE COURT OF FRANCE. 

evidence is indubitable that he experienced intense anguish 
in view of the separation; ])ut this did not influence his 
iron will to swerve from its purpose. The grandeur of his 
fame, and the magnitude of his power, were now such that 
there was not a royal family in Europe which would not 
have felt honored in conferring upon him a bride. It was 
at first contemplated that he should marry some prin- 
cess of the Bourbon family, and thus add to the stability 
of his throne by concihatmg the Royahsts of France. A 
princess of Saxony was proposed. Some weighty consider- 
ations urged an alhance with the majestic Empire of Rus- 
sia, and some advances were made to the court of St. 
Petersburg, having in view a sister of the Emperor Alex- 
ander. It was finally decided that proposals should be 
made to the court of Vienna for Maria Louisa, daughter 
of the Emperor of Austria. 

At length the fatal day arrived for the announcement to 
Josephine. It was the last day of November, 1809. The 
Emperor and Empress dined at Fontainebleau alone. She 
seems to have had a presentiment that her doom was 
sealed, for all that day she had been in her retu-ed apart- 
ment, weeping bitterly. As the dinner-hour approached 
she bathed her swollen eyes, and tried to regain com- 
posure. They sat down at the table in sUence. Napoleon 
did not speak; Josephine could not trust her voice to 
utter a word. Neither ate a mouthful. Course after 
course was brought in and removed imtouched. A mortal 
paleness revealed the anguish of each heart. Napoleon, in 
his embarrassment, mechanically, and apparently uncon- 
sciously, struck the edge of his glass with his knife, while 
lost in thought. A more melancholy meal proliably was 
never witnessed. The attendants around the table seemed 
to catch the infection, and moved softly and silently in the 
discharge of their duties, as if they were in the chamber 
of the dead. At last the ceremony of dinner was over, 
the attendants were dismissed, and Napoleon, rising and 



THE DIVORCE OF JOSEPHINE. 43 

closing the door with his own hand, was left alone with 
Josephine. Another moment of most painful silence en- 
sued, when the Emperor, pale as death, and tremlaluig in 
every nerve, approached the Empress. He took her hand, 
placed it upon his heart, and in faltering accents said : 
" Josephine ! my own good Josephine ! you know how 
I have loved you. It is to you alone that I owe the 
only few moments of hapj^iness I have known in the 
world. Josephine ! my destiny is stronger than my will. 
My dearest affections must yield to the interests of 
France." 

Josephine's brain reeled ; her blood ceased to circulate ; 
she fainted, and fell lifeless iipon the floor. Napoleon, 
alarmed, threw open the door of the saloon and called for 
help. Attendants from the ante-room immediately entered. 
Napoleon took a taper from the mantel, and uttering not 
a word, but pale and trembling, motioned to the Coimt de 
Beaumont to take the Empress in his arms. She was still 
unconscious of everything, but began to murmur, in tones 
of anguish : " Oh, no ! you cannot surely do it. You would 
not kiU me." The Emperor led the way, through a dark 
passage, to the staircase which conducted to the apartment 
of the Empress. The agitation of Napoleon seemed now 
to increase. He uttered some incoherent sentences about 
a violent nervous attack ; and, finding the stau's too steep 
and narroAV for the Count de Beaumont to bear the body 
of the helpless Josephine unassisted, he gave the light to 
an attendant, and, supporting her limbs himself, they 
reached the door of her bedroom. Napoleon then, dismiss- 
ing his male attendants, and laying Josephuie upon her 
bed, rung for her waiting-women. He hung over her with 
an expression of the most intense affection and anxiety 
imtil she began to revive. But the moment consciousness 
seemed returning, he left the room. Napoleon did not 
even throw himself upon his bed that night. He paced 
the floor rmtil the dawn of the morning. The royal snr- 



44 THE COURT OF FRANCE. 

geon, Corvisart, passed the night at the bedside of the 
Empress. Every hour the restless yet unrelenting Emperor 
caEed at her door to inquire concerning her situation. 
" On recovering from my swoon," says Josephine, " I 
perceived that Corvisart was in attendance, and my poor 
daughter Hortense weeping over me. No ! no ! I cannot 
describe the horror of my situation during that night! 
Even the interest he affected to take in my sufferings 
seemed to me additional cruelty. Oh ! how much reason 
had I to dread becoming an Empress ! " 

A fortnight now passed away, during which Napoleon 
and Josephine saw but little of each other. During this 
time there occurred the anniversary of the coronation, and 
of the Victory of Austerhtz. Paris was filled ^vith re- 
joicing. The bells rung their merriest peals. The me- 
tropolis was refulgent with illuminations. In these festivi- 
ties Josephine was compelled to appear. She knew that 
the sovereigns and princes then assembled in Paris were 
hiformed of her ajiproaching disgrace. In all these sounds 
of triumph she heard Ijut the kneU of her own doom. 
And though a careful observer would have detected mdi- 
cations in her moistened eye and her pallid cheek of the 
secret woe which was consuming her heart, her habitual 
affability and grace never, in public, for one moment for- 
sook her. Hortense, languid and sorrow-stricken, was with 
her mothei". 

Eugene was summoned from Italy. He hastened to 
Paris, and his first interview was with his mother. From 
her saloon he went directly to the cabinet of Napoleon, 
and inquired of the Emperor if he had decided to obtaia 
a divorce from the Empress. Napoleon, who was very 
strongly attached to Eugene, made no reply, but pressed 
his hand as an expression that it was so. Eugene imme- 
diately dropped the hand of the Emperor, and said, — 

" Sire, m that case permit me to withdraw from your 
service." 



THE DIVORCE OF JOSEPHINE. 45 . 

" How ! " exclaimed Napoleon, looking upon him sadly ; 
" will you, Eugene, my adopted son, leave me ? " 

" Yes, sire," Eugene replied, fii-mly ; " the son of her who 
is no longer Empress cannot remain Viceroy. I will fol- 
low my mother into her retreat. She must now find her 
consolation in her children." 

Napoleon was not without feelings. Tears fiUed his eyes. 
In a mournful voice, tremvdous with emotion, he replied : 
" Eugene, you know the stern necessity which compels this 
measure, and will you forsake me ? Who, then — should I 
have a son, the object of my desire and preserver of my 
interests — who would watch over the child, when I am ab- 
sent? If I die, who will prove to him a father? Who wiU 
bring him up ? Who is to make a man of him ? " 

Eugene was deeply affected, and, takiag Napoleon's arm, 
they retired and conversed a long time together. The noble 
Josephine, ever sacrificing her own feelings to promote the 
happiness of others, urged her son to remaia the friend of 
Napoleon. "The Emperor," she said, "is yom* benefactor, — 
your more than father, to whom you are indebted for 
everything, and to whom, therefore, you owe a boundless 
obedience." 

The fatal day for the consummation of the divorce at 
length arrived. It was the fifteenth of December, 1809. 
Napoleon had assembled all the kings, princes, and prin- 
cesses who were members of the ImjDcrial famUy, and also 
the most illustrious officers of the Empire, in the grand 
saloon of the Tuileries. Every individual present was op- 
pressed with the melancholy grandeur of the occasion. 
Napoleon thus addressed them : — 

" The pohtical interests of my monarchy, the wishes of 
my people, which have constantly guided my actions, re- 
quire that I should transmit to an heir, inheriting my love 
for the people, the throne on which Providence has placed 
me. For many years I have lost all hopes of having chil- 
dren by my beloved spouse, the Empress Josephine. It is 



46 THE COURT OF FRANCE. 

this consideration which induces me to sacrifice the sweet- 
est affections of my heart, to consult only the good of my 
subjects, and to desire the dissolution of our marriage. 
Arrived at the age of forty years, I may indulge a reason- 
able hope of living long enough to rear, in the spirit of 
my own thoughts and disposition, the children with which 
it may please Providence to bless me. God knows what 
such a determination has cost my heart; but there is no 
sacrifice which is above my courage, when it is proved to 
be for the mterests of France. Far from having any cause 
of complaint, I have nothing to say but in praise of the 
attachment and tenderness of my beloved wife. She has 
embelhshed fifteen years of my life, and the remembrance 
of them will l^e forever engraved on my heart. She was 
crowned by my hand ; she shall retain always the rank 
and title of Empress. Above all, let her never doubt my 
feelings, or regard me but as her best and dearest friend." 

Josephine, her eyes filled with tears, with a faltering 
voice replied : " I respond to all the sentiments of the Em- 
peror in consenting to the dissolution of a marriage which 
henceforth is an ol)stacle to the happiness of France, by 
depriving it of the blessing of being one day governed by 
the descendants of that great man who was evidently 
raised up by Providence to efface the evils of a terrible 
revolution, and to restore the altar and the throne and 
social order. But his marriage will in no respect change 
the sentiments of my heart. The Emj^eror will ever find 
m me his best friend. I know what this act, conmiended 
by policy and exalted interests, has cost his heart, but we 
both glory in the sacrifices we make for the good of the 
country. I feel elevated in giving the greatest proof of 
attachment and devotion that was ever given npon earth." 

Such were the sentiments which were expressed in pub- 
lic ; but in private Josephine surrendered herself to the 
imrestrained dommion of her anguish. No language can 
depict the intensity of her woe. For sis months she wept 



THE DIVORCE OF JOSEPHINE. 47 

SO incessantly that her eyes were nearly blmded with grief. 
Upon the ensuing day the council were again assembled in 
the grand saloon, to witness the legal consummation of the 
divorce. The Emperor entered the room dressed in the 
imposing robes of state, but pallid, care-worn, and wretched. 
Low tones of voice, harmonizing with the mournful scene, 
filled the room. Napoleon, apart by himself, leaned against 
a pillar, folded his arms upon his l^reast, and ui perfect 
silence, apparently lost in gloomy thought, remained mo- 
tionless as a statue. A circular table was placed in the 
centre of the apartment, and upon this there was a writing 
apparatus of gold. A vacant arm-chair stood before the 
table. Never did a multitude gaze upon the scaffold, the 
block, or the guillotine with more awe than the assembled 
lords and ladies m this gorgeous saloon contemplated these 
instruments of a more dreadful execution. 

At length the mournful silence was interrupted by the 
opening of a side door, and the entrance of Josephme. 
The pallor of death was upon her brow, and the submission 
of despair nei-ved her into a temporary cahnness. She was 
leaning upon the ann of Hortense, who, not possessing the 
fortitude of her mother, was entirely unaljle to control her 
feelings. The sympathetic daughter, immediately upon en- 
termg into the room, burst into teai's, and continued soIj- 
bing most convulsively during the whole remaining scene. 
The assembly respectfully arose upon the entrance of Jose- 
phine, and all were moved to tears. With that grace which 
ever distinguished her movements, she advanced silently to 
the seat provided for her. Sitting down, and leaning her 
forehead upon her hand, she listened to the readmg of the 
act of separation. Nothing distm-bed the sepulchral silence 
of the scene but the convulsive sobbings of Hortense, 
blended with the mournful tones of the reader's voice. Eu- 
gene, in the mean time, pale and trembhng as an as2:)en 
leaf, had taken a position by the side of his mother. Silent 
tears were trickling down the cheeks of the Empress. 



48 THE COURT OF FRANCE. 

As soon as the reading of the act of separation was fin- 
ished, Josephine for a moment pressed her handkerchief to 
her weejjing eyes, and then rising, in clear and mnsical, 
but tremulous tones, 2:)ronounced the oath of acceptance. 
She then sat down, took the pen, and affixed her signature 
to the deed which sundered the dearest hopes and the 
fondest ties which human hearts can feel. Poor Eugene 
could endure tliis anguish no longer. His brain reeled, 
his heart ceased to beat, and he fell lifeless upon the floor. 
Josephine and Hortense retired with the attendants who 
bore out the insensible form of the affectionate son and 
brother. It was a fitting termination of this mournful but 
sublime tragedy. 

But the anguish of the day was not yet closed. Jose- 
phine, half delirious with grief, had another scene still more 
jjainful to pass through in taking a final adieu of him who 
had been her husband. She remained in her chamber, in 
heart-rending, speechless grief, until the hour arrived in 
which Napoleon usually retired for the night. The Em- 
peror, restless and wretched, had just placed himself in the 
bed from which he had ejected his most flxithful and de- 
voted wife, and the attendant was on the point of leaving 
the room, when the private door of his chamber was slowly 
opened, and Josephine tremblingly entered. Her eyes Avere 
swollen with grief, her hair dishevelled, and she appeared in 
all the dishabille of unutterable anguish. She tottered into 
the middle of the room, and approached the bed ; tlien, 
irresolutely stopping, she buried her face in her hands and 
burst into a flood of tears. A feeling of delicacy' seemed 
for a moment to have arrested her steps, — a consciousness 
that she had now no right to enter the chamber of Napo- 
leon; but in another moment aU the pentrup love of her 
heart burst forth, and, forgetting everything in her anguish, 
she threw herself upon the bed, clasped Napoleon's neck 
in her arms, and exclaiming, " My husband ! my husband ! " 
sobbed as though her heart were breaking. The miperial 



THE DIVORCE OF JOSEPHINE. 40 

spirit of Napoleon was for the moment entirely vanqnislied, 
antl he also wept almost convulsively. He assured Jose- 
phine of his love — of his ardent and undying love. In 
every way he tried to soothe and comfort her, and for 
some time they remained locked in each other's embrace. 
The attendant was dismissed, and for an hour they con- 
tinued together m this last private intei'view. Josephine 
then, in the experience of an intensity of anguish which 
few hearts have ever known, parted forever from the hus- 
band whom she had so long, so fondly, and so fliithfully 
loved. 

After the Empress had retired, with a desolated heart, 
to her chamber of vmnatural widowhood, the attendant en- 
tered the apartment of Napoleon to remove the lights. 
He found the Emperor so buried beneath the bedclothes 
as to be invisible. Not a word was uttered. The lit^hts 
were removed, and the unhoppy nionarch was left in dark- 
ness and silence to the dreadful comj)anionship of his own 
thoughts. The next morning the death-like pallor' of his 
cheek, his sunken eye, and the haggard expression of his 
countenance, attested that the Emperor had passed the 
night in sleeplessness and suflering. 

Great as was the wrong Avhich Napoleon thus inflicted 
upon the noble Josephine, every one must be sensible of a 
certain kind of grandeur which pervades this renowned 
tragedy m the life and history of the Emperor Napoleon I. 




h'lj St-ciUm U/:^ ^ /UiUi/ftUj/i. it^'r/fi' jjit 



if'il^DS3€E W/\lPTQ)ILEffi'ra ARSIJ !H"!S WCFE TiHlE raOR'CEiS (SLOTDLE'E. 



PRINCE AND PRINCESS NAPOLEON. 



Napoleon Joseph Charles Paul Bonaparte, second and 
only sui'viving son of Jerome Bonaparte by his second 
wile, the Princess Frederique of Wiirtemberg, was born 
September 9, 1822. He was educated chieily in Austria 
and Italy, but he subsequently travelled in Switzerland, 
America, and Brussels, in each of wliich places he resided 
some time. His first appearance on the political stage 
was after the recall of the Bonaparte family to Paris, 
xmder the presidency of Prince Louis Napoleon. Being 
elected a member of the Legislative Assembly, the Prince 
Napoleon distinguished himself by his energetic sujjport 
of ultra opinions, and soon became the recognized leader 
of the party of the Mountain. Since the accession of 
Napoleon HI. to the Imperial crown, Prince Napoleon 
has abandoned extreme political views, and has become 
one of the most devoted and valuable supporters of 
the policy of the Emperor, by whom he is much es- 
teemed and trusted. When the Anglo-French army was 
despatched to the Crimea, Prince Napoleon received the 
command of a division of the French army. He fought 
with distinction at the Alma ; but his health gave way 
soon after the army had encamped before Sebastopol, and 
he was compelled to resign his command and return to 
France. Of the grand coimcil of war which afterward met 
at Paris to arrange the campaign of 1855, Prmce Napoleon 
was a member. But he was soon called to a more peace- 
ful pursuit. When the grand exposition of the arts and 



52 THE COURT OF FEANCE. 

manufactures of all nations at Paris was fixed to take 
place in 1855, Prince Napoleon was appointed president 
and chief director of the whole proceedings. To this great 
work he devoted all his energies, and it is universally ad- 
mitted that much of its success was owing to his great 
knowledge, tact, administrative ability, and imtiring dili- 
gence. The jurors, and especially the foreign jurors, were 
particularly indebted to him for the most friendly assists 
ance and constant support ; and the exhibitors owed no 
little to his zeal and sympathy. The Prince Najjoleon had 
devoted great attention to political, social, and commercial 
studies ; and in respect to the commercial code of France 
he is understood to hold opinions far more liberal than 
those of the great bulk even of the commercial public of 
that coimtry. 

The visit of Prince Napoleon to this country in its j)res- 
ent exciting crisis, under the supposed and kind auspices 
of the Emperor, in part at least, and to observe carefully 
our national movements, will form an interesting chapter 
in the Prince's personal history. Such a mission, so unob- 
trusive and unassuming on the part of the Prince, to learn 
the exact state of things on the great field of our national 
struggle, and thus be able to convey to the Emperor the 
result of his careful observations, is worthy of the Prince 
and the renowned sovereign who now fills the Imperial 
throne of France. The Prince is first cousin to the Em- 
peror, and next to the Prince Imperial is heir to the 
throne of the Napoleons. The Prince, as is generally be- 
lieved, possesses the entire confidence of the Emperor, his 
august cousin, and was thus well fitted to undertake such 
a mission to the United States as he has performed. The 
Prince is now in his forty-first year, and no one looking at 
his finely developed head can fail to see the imj^ress of 
the lineaments of Napoleon I. The reader is referred to 
the portrait itself to fill out his own imj^ression, only add- 
ing that the msignia of the honors conferred upon him 



PRINCE AND PRINCESS NAPOLEON. 53 

are such as he wore on his breast when his photograph 
was taken in Paris about two years since. 

The Princess Clotilde — her full name is Marie Therese 
Louise Clotilde — is the daughter of Victor Emmanuel, 
King of Sardinia, and now King of Italy, by the wonder- 
ful renovation of that classic land and its restoration to 
the great family of nations. The Princess was born in 
Turin in 1843, and is now in her twentieth year. Her 
marriage with the Prince was supposed at the time to 
form, or to increase, the strong bonds of amity between 
the two governments, France and Sardmia. Thus these 
two personages form a political and historic link between 
two empires, even with the colossal Alps intervening. 

In size the Prmcess is rather pciite, and has an Italian 
complexion and features, and is very prepossessing and un- 
assuming in her manners. The reader is referred to her 
graceful portrait to complete his impressions of the appear- 
ance of this amiable personage. The kind treatment which 
the Prince received by the authorities in this country 
at Washington, Philadelphia, New York, and Boston, and 
wherever he went, is too recent and well known to re- 
quire mention in these pages. 




WAPOLEOiM DIM my ©owe ip®ipe pdius ^foo to soski ¥1111! 



NAPOLEON I. AND THE CONCORDAT. 



The scene represented in the engraving lias long since 
passed into historic annals. It is a permanent chapter in 
the history of these august personages. From 1801, till 
1804, Pius VII. enjoyed tranquillity at Rome. In May, 
1804, Napoleon was proclaimed Emperor, and some time 
after he wrote to the Pope, requesting him to crown him 
solemnly at Paris. After considerable hesitation Pius con- 
sented, and set off from Rome at the beginning of that 
year. The ceremony of the coronation took place in the 
Cathedral of Notre Dame, after which the Pope spent 
several months in Paris, visiting the public establishments, 
and receivmg the homage of men of all parties, who were 
won by his unassuming, yet dignified behavior, and his 
unaffected piety. In May, 1805, he returned to Rome. 

For a number of years subsequent the Pope was occu- 
pied with aflairs of state and efforts to adjust the comj^li- 
cated difficulties which arose by the inroads and edicts of 
Napoleon. On the seventeenth of May, 1809, Napoleon, 
who was then making war against Austria, issued a decree 
from Vienna, in which he resumed the grant of his illus- 
trious predecessor Charlemagne, and united the remainder 
of the Roman States to the French Empire, leavmg to the 
Pope his palaces and an income of two million of francs. 
On the tenth of June, 1809, the Pope issued a bull of ex- 
communication against all the perpetrators and abettors of 
the invasion of Rome and of the territories of the Holy See. 
The bull was affixed to the gates of the principal churches 
of Rome and in other public places. The French commander, 



56 THE COURT OF FRANCE. 

Miollis, being afraid of an insurrection of the people of 
Rome, who had shown unequivocal signs of attachment to 
their sovereign, thought it expedient to remove Pius from 
the capital. The Swiss guard made no resistance, having 
orders to that effect from the Pope ; and, protesting that 
he " yielded to force," Pius takmg his breviary under his 
arm, accompanied the General to the gate where his car- 
riage was ready, and drove off under an escort. He was 
first taken to Grenoble in Dauphme, from whence he was 
removed, by order of Napoleon, to Savona, where he re- 
mained till June 1812, when he was removed to Fontaine- 
bleau, by an order of Napoleon. During his stay at 
Savona, Napoleon convoked a council at Paris of the 
bishojjs of his empire, Init he found that assembly less 
docile than he expected, and he dissolved it without any 
conclusion bemg come to. In short, Napoleon found that 
unarmed priests were more difficult to conquer than the 
armies of one half of Europe. The plan of Na2Doleon was 
to have the Pope settled at Avignon, or some other town 
of his empire, as his subject and his j^ensionary, and to 
have himself the nomination not only of the bishops, but 
of the cardinals also, by which means he would have 
added to his already overbearing temporal power the in- 
calculaljle support of a spiritual authority which extends 
over a great part of the world. The resistance of Pius 
disappointed his views. Napoleon at last imagined that by 
i-emoving Pius to Fontainebleau, he might succeed in over- 
coming his firmness. Pius was again obliged to make a 
long journey with the greatest secrecy. He arrived at Fon- 
tamebleau in June, 1812, and was lodged in the Imperial 
palace and treated with marked respect. Napoleon had set 
out on his Russian expedition. After his return from that 
disastrous campaign, in December, 1812, he went to see 
the Pope, embraced him, and treated him with studied at- 
tention; he also allowed several cardinals who were at 
Paris to repair to Fontainebleau; and at last, chiefly 



NAPOLEON I. AND THE CONCORDAT. 57 

through theu' persuasions, he jjrevailed upon the Pope to 
sign a new concordat tlie twenty-fifth of January, 1813. 
Napoleon hastened to j)ubUsh the articles of the Concordat, 
and to give them the force of laws of the empire; after 
which he granted free access to the Pope, to aU cardinals 
and others who chose to repair to Fontaiuebleau. 



^' 




1 TS-aiSEATEIIElQ) Ig.V TIHIE MO® S N TJilE3!H! VI!S!1 



LOUIS XVI., KING OF FEANCE. 



Among the many of this world's magnates, monarchs and 
potentates, kings and emperors, it has fallen to the lot of 
comparatively few to sufler a violent death. Of this num- 
ber was the amiable l^nt unfortunate King of France, Louis 
XVI. He lived in troublous times. The terrible storms 
of the French Revolution had 1jeen long gathering by the 
misrule of previous kings. The dark clouds had become 
thick and murky and highly chai'ged with pohtical Hgh1> 
nings and thunderings. At length the storm burst, and a 
dreadful carnage ensued. France was deluged with blood. 
Among the numerous victims was Louis XVI., whose end 
forms a sad tragedy in historic annals. 

Louis XVI., King of France, was the second son of the 
Prince Dauphin, son of Louis XV., and of Maria Jose^sha 
of Saxony, daughter of Frederick Augustus, Kmg of Po- 
land. He was Ijorn at Versailles, and named Due de Berri, 
1754, became dauphin by the death of his father, 17G5, 
and was married to Marie Antoinette of Austria, 1770. 
Amiable, irresolute, and timid, he succeeded to the stained 
and totteriiig throne of his grandfather when twenty years 
of age, 1774, and was cro^vned at Rheims, amidst the en- 
thusiastic applause of his people, June 11, 1775. Appar- 
ently no sovereign ever ascended the throne imder hap- 
pier auspices; but really no European throne ever stood 
on the verge of a more terrible abyss ; the incapacit}^ and 
corruption of the governing l^ody being already confronted 
with the philosophic pride and wild vigor of the governed, 



60 THE COURT OF FRANCE. 

— just awakening to a sense of the " rights of man." He 
commenced his reign happily by promoting many useful 
reforms, and calling the most upright men to his ministry, 
— among others, Turgot and Malesherbes ; but it was soon 
evident that the resources of the State were utterly dispro- 
portionate to its expenditure, and discoveries were con- 
tinually made which brought the court arid government 
into contempt. As usual in such cases, one palliative suc- 
ceeded another, while the root of the evil remained un- 
touched ; and when the distresses of the people were 
expressed in open disaffection, the ancient machinery of 
government was found insufficient, either as a means 
of effectuating the will of the people, or of controlling 
their blind impulses by the imposition of a more enlight- 
ened authority. The issue of this was the convocation 
of the " Notables," who met twice, under the ministries of 
Calonne and Lomenie Brienne, 1787 and 1788, and of the 
" Estates-General," wliich assembled at the beginning of 
May, 1789. This body declared for a "constitution" as the 
first necessity of France, and took a solemn and united 
oath not to separate until they had made it. The real 
conflict between the people and the com't was commenced 
by this act; the disposition to insurrection acquired a form 
of legality, and the passions of those who might be capable 
of leading the populace were fairly imloosed. Mirabeau, 
Lafliyette, Danton, Camille, Desmoulins, Eobespierre, and 
Marat, are among the names of such. As a first step, the 
" third estate," or plebeians in the " Estates-General," re- 
fused to acknowledge the clergy and the noblesse as sepa- 
rate bodies, and many of these joining them, they assumed 
the name of a " National Assembly." Against this body 
the guards refused to act, and the people soon enrolled in 
clubs, and, in a national militia, surprised the government 
by storming the Bastile, July 14th, and committed some 
deplorable excesses. The National Assembly, presuming on 
its actual power under these circumstances to make the 



LOUIS XVI., KING OF FRANCE. 61 

constitution, called itself " the Constituent Assembly," and 
promulgated the "rights of man" as a basis. To the ex- 
citement of these occurrences was added the maddening 
effects of a famine in the succeeding autumn, Avhen the 
"worst forms of clubbism commenced, and the Marats, Car- 
riers, Henriots, and Tinvilles, rose into notice. In June, 
1790, the King attempted to fly, and was arrested at 
Varennes, the peoj^le meeting to petition for his depo- 
sition being dispersed by musketry on his return. On the 
thirtieth of September following he accepted the constitu- 
tion, and on the first of October the first biennial parha- 
ment, or Legislative Assembly, met for the transaction of 
business. The power of " veto " having been granted to 
the King, by this new compact, he was imhappy enough 
to use it against every important measure proposed by the 
parliament. In the course of another year his deposition 
was again agitated, tumultuous processions took place, the 
palace itself was invaded, and the King compelled to wear 
the red bonnet, or cap of liljerty. As time wore on, the 
republicans became thoroughly organized, and in August, 
1792, the Marseilles were quartered in Paris, the Tuileries 
besieged, the Swiss Guard massacred, and the royal family 
imprisoned in the Temple. The party of Danton now oc- 
cupied the foreground of events, and prepared to assemble 
a "National Convention," and resist the threatened invasion 
of the emigrants and the Germans under the Duke of 
Brunswick. The first act of this body, which met towards 
the end of September, was to pronounce on the fate of Louis 
XVI., who was declared guilty of a conspiracy against the 
general safety of the state, by six hundred and ninety- 
three votes out of seven hundred and twenty-nine, and to 
be worthy of death by a majority of four hundred and 
thirty-three against two hundred and eighty-eight. Danton 
uttered what the National Convention felt under these cir- 
cumstances : " The coalesced kings threaten us ; we hurl 
at their feet, as a gage of battle, the head of a king." 



62 THE COURT OF FRANCE. 

The French historian, Emile de Bonnechose, thus de- 
scribes the closing scene of this drama in the life of 
Louis XVI.: — 

" For the last foiu" months, the unfortunate monarch had 
languished in the tower of the Temple, with the Queen, 
Madame Elizabeth, his sister, an angel of gentleness and 
goodness, and his two children, dividing his hours betwixt 
the care of their education and reading. The city exer- 
cised a cruel surveillance over its captives ; and labored, 
by overwhelming them with mortifications, to prepare them 
for the frightful catastrophe which awaited them. The dis- 
cussion on the trial of the King was opened in the Con- 
vention on the thirteenth of November ; and the principal 
charges against him arose out of papers foimd at the 
Tuileries, in an iron chest, the secret of which had been 
revealed to the minister Eoland. Therein were discovered 
all the plottings and intrigues of the court against the 
revolution, as well as the arrangements with Mirabeau and 
the General Bouille. Other papers, too, found in the 
offices of the civil list, seemed to establish the fact that 
Louis XVL had not been altogether a stranger to the 
movements negotiated in Europe in his favor. As king, 
however, the constitution had declared him inviolable ; be- 
sides, he was dejiosed, and could not, Ijiit in defiance of 
every law, be condemned for acts anterior to his deposi- 
tion. The Montagnards themselves felt all the illegality of 
the proceedings directed against him. Eobespierre, in de- 
manding his death, repudiated all forms, as fictions, and 
relied, as did Saint-Just, solely on reasons of state. ' What,' 
said the latter, 'have not good citizens and true friends of 
liljcrty to fear, when they see the axe treml^le in your 
hands, and a people, in the very dawn of its freedom, re- 
specting the memory of its chains ? ' The Mountain party, 
in earnestly laboring for the condemnation of the King, 
had a further ol^ject than the single one of punishing him. 
They were anxious to crush the Gironde, which had openly 



LOUIS XVI., KING OF FRANCE. 63 

manifested a desire to save him, and to arrive at power, 
by prolonging tlie revolutionary movements tlirough the 
means of this frightful covj) d'etat. The large majority of 
the assembly persisted in the determination to submit this 
great process to judicial forms ; and Louis XVI., who had 
already been separated from his family, appeared as a cul- 
prit before the Convention, whose jurisdiction he did not 
challenge. His countenance was firm and noble ; his an- 
swers were precise, touching, and almost always triumphant. 
Conducted back to the Temple, he demanded a defender, 
and named Target and Tronchet. The first of these re- 
fused the office ; and the venerable Malesherbes offered 
himself in his place, and wrote to the Convention in these 
memorable words : ' Twice have I been called to the coun- 
cils of hiin who was my master, hi the days when that 
function was an object of ambition to all men: I owe him 
the same service, now that it is one which many find dan- 
gerous.' His request, which was granted, deeply aflected 
Louis XVL When he appeared before him, the monarch 
pressed him in his arms, and said, with tears in his eyes : 
' You expose your own life, and will not save miae.' 
Tronchet and Malesherbes immediately set about the prep- 
aration of the King's defence, and associated with them- 
selves M. de Seze, by whom it was pronounced, and who 
concluded his pathetic pleading by these true and solemn 
words : ' Placed on the throne at twenty years of age, 
Louis carried thither the example of morality, justice, and 
economy. He brought with him no weakness, and no cor- 
rupt passions. He was the unvarymg friend of his people. 
That people desired the destruction of a burdensome im- 
post — and Louis destroyed it ; the people desired the abo- 
lition of servitude — and Louis abolished it ; the peoj^le 
solicited reforms — and Louis gave them; the people sought 
to alter its laws — the King consented ; the people desired 
that their ahenated rights shovdd be restored to millions of 
Frenchmen — and Louis restored them ; the people sighed 



64 THE COURT OF FRANCE. 

for liberty — and the King bestowed it. The glory cannot 
be denied to Louis of having even anticipated the wishes 
of his people in his sacrifices ; and yet he it is whom 

you are asked to . Citizens, I dare not speak it ! I 

pause before the majesty of history. Eemember that his- 
tory shall hereafter judge yoiu" judgment of to-day, and 
that the judgment of history will be that of ages ! ' But 
the passions of the judges were blind and implacable ; an 
unanimous vote declared Louis guilty, and the appeal to 
the people which the Girondins demanded was refused. 

" It only now remained to decide what punislmient 
should be inflicted. The ferment in Paris was at its 
height ; a furious multitude siuTOunded the door of the 
Assembly, denouncing frightful menaces against all who 
should incline to mercy. At length, after forty hours of 
nominal dehberation, the President Vergniaud announced 
the result of the votes. Out of one hundred and twenty- 
one, there was a majority of twenty-six for death. Male- 
sherbes endeavored to address the Assembly, but his voice 
was choked by sobs. A respite was demanded, but in 
vain ; and the fatal sentence was pronounced. Louis had 
one last and heart-rending interview with his family, after 
his condemnation, and then prepared himself for death. 
He slept calmly, received the offices of the Church, and 
confided his last wishes to his faithful and only remamiug 
servant, Clery. Shortly afterwards, Sauterre arrived, and 
Louis went forth to execution. He ascended the scaffold 
with a firm step ; and, on his knees, received the benedic- 
tion of the priest, who thus addressed him : ' Son of Saint 
Louis, ascend to heaven ! ' He then suffered his hands to 
be tied, and turned to the multitude. ' I die innocent,' he 
said ; ' I forgive my foes ; and for you, wretched people ! ' 
— here his voice was drowned in the roll of the drums. 
The executioners seized him, and, in another instant, he 
had ceased to hve. Thus perished, on the twenty-first of 
January, 1793, after a reign of seventeen years, one of 



LOUIS XVI., KING OF FRANCE. 65 

those kings who have most illustrated the throne by their 
virtues. lie had the honesty of intention necessary for 
originating reforms, but wanted the strength of character 
necessary for their enforcement, — the firmness which might 
have enabled him to direct the revolution, and bring it to 
a favorable issue." 




ns f j-tjy o/tTi'i./'. J-'/UL-f //i£, ijrf/.," ,f/ / r^-^ /f'. 



M AlPJOA AMYPDNETTll, SiKDPlC Ti EJSECttJT'flP F1 



QUEEN MARIE ANTOINETTE. 



Marie Antoinette Josephe Jeanne de Lorraine, Archduch- 
ess of Austria, daughter of Francis I, Emperor of Germany, 
and of Maria Theresa, Empress of Germany and Queen of 
Hungary and Bohemia, was born on the second of Novem- 
bei", 1755. Her mother a2)pears to have destined her for 
France from her earhest years. Everything was done to 
insure " an air of Versailles ; " from the books of Paris to 
its fashions, from a French tutor, the Abbe de Vermond, 
to a French hair-dressei', she was surrounded by nothing 
but French associations. When, in 1766, Madame Geoffrin 
was at Vienna caressing the charming Uttle archduchess, 
she could not resist declaring that she was beautiful as an 
angel, and ought to be in France. " Take her with you ! 
take her with you ! " was the response of Maria Theresa. 

Marie Antoinette left Austria for France on the seventh 
of May, 1770. A pavilion had been erected at the fron- 
tiers of the latter country on an island of the Ehinc near 
Strasbourg. It is related in the " Memoires de Madame de 
Campan," that when the Archduchess attained this point 
she had to change her dress even to her chemise and 
stockings, so that nothing should remain to her of a coun- 
try no longer her own. Etiquette surely became alike 
barbarous and tyrannical when it thus exacted the utter 
rejection of the country of nativity for that of adoption. 
It was, to say the least of it, a humiliating concession 
made by an Austrian Archduchess to the vainglory of 
France. Well might Marie Antoinette, received by the 
Comte de Noailles, be described as going "au-devant de la 



68 THE COURT OF FRANCE. 

France, emue, tremblaute, les yeiix humides et brillants de 
larmes." The ceremony of reception, or of "remise," as 
our authors have it, as if a liale of goods was concerned, 
])eing over, the future Dauphine made her pubHc entry 
into Strasbourg in the King's carriages. Prince Louis de 
Rohan received her at the cathedral in pontifical robes. 
" It is the soul of Maria Theresa," exclaimed the courtly 
monk — miserable descendant of Henry and Anne of the 
same name — " which is going to unite itself to the soul 
of the Bourljons ! " 

The interval between Strasbourg and Paris is now tra- 
versed by express in nine hours and a half It took 
Marie Antoinette seven days to reach Compiegne by Nan- 
cy, Chalons, and Reims. The journey was one long and 
fatig-uing: ovation. But she was indemnified, her historians 
tell us, by hearing on all sides, " from rustics in their Sun- 
day vests, from old cures, and from young women, ' Qu'elle 
est jolie, notre dauphine ! ' " The first greeting of the 
royal family of France occurred at the bridge of Berne, 
in the forest of Compiegne. Marie Antoinette had to step 
down from her carriage, the Counts de Saulx, Tavannes, 
and De Tesse conducting her by the hand to the King, 
who raised her from her knees, and, embracing her with 
royal and paternal kindness, presented her to the Dauphin, 
who received his future after the same fashion. 

The next day the marriage ceremony was performed at 
Versailles. The King and the Dauphin had left for the 
chateau after the supper at two in the morning : Marie 
Antoinette followed, " coiffee et habillee en tresgrand ne- 
glige," having to complete her toilet at Versailles. At the 
nuptials, the Archbishop of Reims, who presided, blessed 
thirteen gold pieces, as well as the ring, and presented 
them to the Dauphin. When night came, he had fur- 
ther to bless the nuptial bed ; the King himself " donnait 
la chemise au Dauphin, la Duchesse de Chartres a. la 
Dauphine." 



QUEEN MARIE ANTOINETTE. GO 

Strange omens attended iipon this rojal solemnity. A 
heavy storm broke over Versailles, accompanied by loud 
thunder and vivid lightning. Superstitious people can now 
see a warning in the fact. The very chateau, it is said, 
trembled. A more serious catastrophe also came to cast a 
gloom over the marriage festivities. The day that these 
were to terminate, on the thirtieth of May, Ruggieri had 
the management of a display of fireworks on the place of 
Lords XV. By some strange mischance the crowd Avas 
seized with a panic, and the most fearful results ensued. 
Huxidreds of persons were more or less injured, and no 
less than one hundred and thirty-two were killed. 

The career of the Dauphine was, notwithstandmg these 
evil omens, smiling at the onset. The mari'iage of the 
Comte de Provence and the Comte d'Artois with two 
daughters of the King of Sardinia had brought two other 
strange young ladies to the palace ; and a close intimacy 
soon attached the three to one another. They participated 
in each other's pleasures, wallvs, rides, and even rejiasts, 
when these were not public. They even got up amateur 
theatrical performances, forljidden by Louis XV., at Ver- 
sailles, and had the Dauphin for an audience. 

Foremost in the Dauphine's aftections stood Madame de 
Lamballe, for whom she entertained a lasting friendship. 
Although only twenty years of age, Madame de Lamballe 
had known misfortunes, for she had lost her husband, the 
Prince de Laml^alle ; and yet was she of such engagmg, 
agreeable manners that she won the regards of all, and 
even a marriage between Louis XV. and the princess was 
once talked of; and hence the fears aroused by her mere 
presence in the bosom of the du Barry were of themselves 
a bond of amity l^etween Marie Antoinette and Marie 
Therese Lamballe. 

Three years had elapsed since Marie Antoinette had 
been in France, when a pul^lic entry into the good city 
of Paris was decided upon. This took place on the eighth 



70 THE COURT OF FRANCE. 

of June, 1773, and the young princess was naturally de- 
lighted beyond conception with the reception given to her 
youth and beauty. She walked forth amidst the crowd in 
the gardens of the Tuileries, and received personally the 
homage of all. Old courtiers did their best to encourage 
her. The aged Due de Brissac, pointing to the sea of 
people from the windows of the Tuileries, said, " Madame, 
you have there, before your eyes, two hundred thousand 
lovers ! " 

One da}', in the year 1774, the King, being in a very 
unusually kind mood, said to the Queen, " You love flow- 
ers ? Well, I have a ))ouquet to give you : it is le Petit 
Trianon." No present could have been more agreeable to 
the Queen, — a queen without busmess, without children, 
without a husband. She could work there, amuse herself, 
improve, create, make a little Vienna. Above all, she 
resolved that nature should be studied in laying out the 
grounds, and not art, as had hitherto been the case in 
most French gardens ; and if we are to believe her biogra- 
phers, she was indeljted to an Englishman, to Sir Thomas 
Wathely, for these ideas, which were at that time unknown 
in France, where all that was not formal was designated 
as Chinese. 

On the fifteenth of August, 1785, Prince Louis de Eohan, 
grand-aumonier de France, was arrested at Versailles by 
order of the King. The unfortunate Marie Antoinette had 
long before this been the victim of an infinity of cakmi- 
nious reports. Songs and pamphlets, liljels and paragraphs, 
had vied with one another in misrepresenting the character 
of the Queen. 

Among the most notorious of these productions were the 
"Portfeuille d'un Talon Eouge;" the "Memoires de Tilly;" 
those of the Baron de Besenval, and those of the fixtuous 
and presumptuous Due de Lauzun. The latter is the most 
contemptible of all her enemies, for had he really enjoyed 
the favors of Marie Antoinette to the extent to which he 



QUEEN MAEIE ANTOINETTE. 71 

pretends, his conduct in piibli^liing the act becomes only 
the more reprehensible. Even the "Foreign Eeminiscences" 
of Lord Holland contain a scandalous report in connection 
with a certain M. de Fersen, upon the authority, it is said, 
of M. de Talleyrand. Nay, there was actually published a 
" Liste Civile : Uste de toutes les personnes avec lesquelles 
la reine a eu des relations de debauches ! " In this pre- 
cious list we find the names of several Englishmen, the 
Duke of Dorset and Lords Seymour and Strathaven. But 
as the noble-minded Prince de Ligne has summed up in 
his " Melanges Litteraires," " the pretended gallantry of the 
Queen was never more than a deep feeling of friendship 
for one or two persons, and a ' coquetterie de femme, 
de reine ' who wishes to please every one." " Marie An- 
toinette," say her biographers, the Messieurs de Goncourt, 
" needs no excuses ; calumny against her was not detrac- 
tion ; Marie Antoinette remained pure." 

The disgraceful and fatal affair known as "I'affiiire du 
collier," brought, however, all these libels and calumnies 
floating about from mouth to mouth, and from hand to 
hand, amongst all classes, from the highest to the lowest, 
to an acme. The real grounds of the affair, and of the 
trial that it led to, are very simple; either the Queen was 
innocent, or she sold herself for a jewel ! And to whom ? 
To the man in France whom she disliked most! And who 
were the witnesses ? Two of the greatest vagabonds, ad- 
venturers, and most unprincipled persons in the country ! 

The jeweller Boehmer had sold to the Queen a pair of 
ear pendants for three hundred and sixty thousand francs, 
as also to the King for the Queen a complete set of rubies 
and white diamonds, as also a pair of bracelets, which cost 
eight hundred thousand francs. The Queen then declared 
herself satisfied to Boehmer, and said she would have no 
more, notwithstanding which Boehmer busied himself with 
collectino- the most beautiful diamonds that could be found 

O 

in order to make a necklace which he destined for the 



72 THE COURT OF FRANCE. 

Queen. The necklace comjjleted, he got it sho^vla to the 
King, who made the offer to present it to the Qneen, but 
the Queen refused to accept it. The offer was renewed a 
year afterwards, and met with a similar refusal. Then 
Boehmer went to the Queen himself, and throwing himself 
at her feet, declared that unless she took the bracelet he 
was a rumed man, and would dro-vvn himself Marie An- 
toinette, aware, however, of how much had been said con- 
cerning her extravagance, persisted in her refusal: she told 
the jeweller that she had warned him she would have no 
more jewels, and since he had disregarded her warnings he 
had better break up the necklace, and sell the diamonds 
one by one, rather than drown himself The astonishment 
of the Queen may then be well unagined when, on the 
third of August, 1785, Boehmer presented his bill for the 
diamond necklace, purported to have been bought by the 
Carduial de Eohan for the Queen, — the agreement to that 
effect being signed by Marie Antoinette herself! 

Cardinal de Rohan, it is to be remarked, had always 
been the inveterate enemy of Marie Antoinette. He had 
exposed her to the ridicule of the Du Barrys ; he had 
calumniated her with her mother, and he had shamefully 
scandalized her at the court of France. 

" On the fifteenth of August, day of the Assumption, at 
twelve, the court was assembled in the gallery. Cardinal de 
Rohan, in lawn sleeves and cloak, was expecting their 
majesties to pass, on their way to mass, when he was 
called to the King's study, where he found the Queen. 

" ' Who gave you the orders, sir,' said the King to him, 
' to purchase a necklace for the Queen of France ? ' 

" ' Ah ! sire,' exclaimed the Cardinal, ' I see too late that I 
have been deceived ! ' 

" The King continued, ' What have you done with the 
necklace ? ' 

" ' I thought that it had been given to the Queen.' 

" ' Who intrusted you with this commission ? ' 



QUEEN MARIE ANTOINETTE. 73 

"'A lady called Madame la Comtesse de la Motte -Valois, 
who presented to me a letter from the Queen, and I 
thought that I was paying my court to majesty in carry- 
ing out her orders.' 

" ' I, sir ! ' interrupted the Queen, who was agitating her 
fan — ' I ! who, since my arrival at the court, have never 
addressed a word to you ! Whom, I pray, will you per- 
suade that I gave charge of my attire to a bishop, to a 
grand-almoner of France ? ' 

" ' I see quite well,' replied the Cardmal, ' that I have 
been cruelly deceived. I will pay for the necklace. The 
desire that I had to please fascinated my eyes. I have 
nothmg to hide, and I am grieved at what has occm-red.' 

"And so saymg, the Cardinal drew from a pocketrbook an 
agreement signed ' Marie Antoinette de France.' The King 
took it. 

" ' This is neither the writing nor the signature of the 
Queen; how could a prince of the House of Kohan and a 
grand-almoner of France fancy that the Queen signed Marie 
Antoinette de France? Everybody knows that queens only 
sign their baptismal names.' The King, presenting then a 
copy of his letter to Boehmer to the Cardinal, said, ' Did 
you write such a letter as this ? ' 

" ' I do not remember having done so.' 

"'And if the original was shown to you, signed by 
yourself ? ' 

" ' If the letter is signed by me, it is a true letter.' 

"'Explain to me, then, this enigma,' continued the King; 
* I do not wish to prove you guilty, I wish to justify 
you.' 

" The Cardinal turned pale, and supported himself by a 
table. ' Sire, I am too much confused to reply to your 

majesty in a manner' 

" ' Well, recover yourself. Monsieur le Cardinal,' said the 
King, ' and go into my study, so that the presence of the 
Queen or of myself shall not interfere with the quiet that 

10 



74 THE COURT OF FRANCE. 

is necessary to you. You will find there paper, pens, and 
ink ; put your statement in writing.' The Cardmal obeyed. 
In less than a quarter of an hour he returned, and pre- 
sented a paper to the King. The Kmg took it, saying, at 
the same time, ' I warn you that you are about to be ar- 
rested.' 

" ' Ah ! sire,' exclaimed the Cardinal, ' I shall always obey 
your majesty's orders, but may I be spared the grief of 
being arrested in my pontifical robes, and in the presence 
of the whole court ! ' 

" ' It must be so ! ' 

" And so saying, the King left the Cardinal abruptly, not 
to hear any more." 

Cardinal de Rohan was, accordingly, arrested, and led to 
the Bastile ; and on the fifth of September, 1785, his trial 
was removed from the jurisdiction of the ecclesiastical au- 
thorities to that of the Grand Chambers, by the King's 
letters. It is needless to enter here mto the details of this 
scandalous affair, which has afforded matter upon which to 
exercise the ingenuity and far-sightedness of romancers as 
well as historians, of scandal-mongers as well as of chroni- 
clers. Suffice it that the results of the trial established in 
the eyes of all persons not influenced by the passions of 
the day the guilt of Madame de la Motte, the complicity 
to a certain extent of the Cardinal, and the innocence of 
the Queen. The jury, however, by a majority of twenty- 
six against twenty-three, while it condemned Madame de 
la Motte to castigation, branding, and j^erpetual imjirison- 
ment, acquitted the Cardinal, as the dupe of a woman, 
with whom his relations only added to the deeply scan- 
dalous hue of the whole affair. 

Two years before the Revolution the unpopularity of M. 
de Calonue falling upon the Queen, attained such a point 
of exasperation that her portrait, surrovmded by her chil- 
dren, was not exposed at the exhibition for fear of ovitr 
rage. Domestic and public afflictions had at that time 



QUEEN MARIE ANTOINETTE. 75 

wrouo-ht a Avondrous cliauo-e in the character of Marie An- 
toinctte. She had lost a beloved daughter — Beatrix de 
France — and the Dauphm himself, sickly and rickety, was 
in a condition that gave httle hopes of his livmg to enjoy 
a throne. Worldly pleasures had no longer any charms for 
the Queen, and she only sought for the solitudes and tran- 
quillity of Trianon. Her last-born child — the Duke of 
Normandy — had come into the world without a single 
acclamation, and had been cradled in calumny. Under 
such moral and political reverses, Marie Antoinette called 
the Abbe de Vermond to her comisels. The Abbe was 
one of those men who wished to rule over all. He dis- 
missed M. de Calonne and nominated M. de Brienne to liis 
place. His object and that of his satellites was to save 
the kingdom by the Church ! This was precisely the 
means to hasten a catastrophe in the then temper of 
France, goaded on by the encyclopedists. Such a system, 
indeed, only begat new enemies to the Queen, who was 
even denounced by parliament itself to Louis XVI. The 
Queen was obliged to give way, and M. Necker was 
restored to the ministry. 

With the return of M. Necker to power we may date 
the commencement of the Revolution. The anger of the 
populace, the hatred of France, the interests of Europe, 
and more especially of England, which, according even to 
her biographers, " elle n'avait cesse d'avilir par ses agens," 
were all united against the mistaken policy of Marie Antoi- 
nette, rendered more disastrous by the King's incapacity, by 
family dissensions and hostilities, and by the intrigues of 
favorites. When the Bastile fell before the fury of the pop- 
ulace, the first cries of " death " were given to the Polig- 
nacs. The Queen was obliged to part with her friends, 
for whom no sacrifices of money or titles had been too 
great. But still the Eevolution feared Marie Antoinette. 
From the weakness and incapacity of Louis XVI. it had 
nothing to apprehend ; but it saw an enemy difficult to 



76 THE COURT OF FRANCE. 

conquer in tlie intelligence and firmness — the heacl and 
heart — of the Queen. Hence was the whole ire of the 
revolutionary press concentrated against her person. The 
King was spoken of as honest and virtuous, but weak ! l)ut 
calumnies and insults were heaped on the head of the 
unfortunate Marie Antoinette. At length it was intunated 
that "la grand dame devait s'en aller, si elle ne pr^ferait 
pis," and this fixiling, and the Queen remaining steadfast to 
her King and family, the Eevolutiou resolved to disem- 
barrass itself of her by tmnultuous manifestations. 

On the evening of the fifth of October, the Queen was 
in her grotto of Trianon alone with her griefs, when M. 
de Saint-Priest came to announce that the populace were 
marching against Versailles. The Queen resolved then to 
confront the storm, and she left Trianon: it Avas for the 
last time. At Versailles she found every one in a panic, — 
ministers dehberating, a King incapable of a decision. The 
somid of musketry was heard in the streets, and soon the 
mob appeared at the gates of the palace carrying La- 
fayette in triumph, and shouting for " les boyaux de la 
reine ! " 

In the midst of the anarchy and confusion that pre- 
vailed, there was only one man, and that was the Queen. 
" I know," said the daughter of Maria Theresa, " that they 
have come fi-om Paris to seelc my life, but I have leamt 
from my mother not to fear death, and I shall await it 
with firmness." Lafayette had answered for his army dur- 
ing the night, and the Queen had retired to rest, when 
she was awoke by the report that the mob had assaulted 
the palace. Miomandre de Sainte-Marie and Du Eepaire 
fell at the door of the Queen's apartments, whilst, after 
many perplexities, the latter joined the King and her 
children. The mob, as it assailed the palace, vociferated, 
" A Paris ! a Paris ! " The King yielded to the pressure, 
and promised to start for the capital at mid-day. This did 
not satisfy the insurgents; they insisted upon the Queen's 



QUEEN MARIE ANTOINETTE. 77 

appearing upon the balcony. She presented herself before 
the infuriated mob with her children. " No children ! " 
they shouted out. They wanted the Queen, not the 
mother. Marie Antoinette dismissed the children, and 
crossmg her arms upon her breast awaited their will. The 
mol) were taken aback with this exhibition of courage, and 
responded to it by shouts o? ''Bravo ! vive la reine!" 

The next day, the heads of the two Gardes du Corps 
who had perished in defending the Queen were carried on 
pikes m the front of the tumultuous procession which con- 
ducted the royal family to Paris. 

After a moment's appearance at the Hotel de Ville, 

where the unfortunate monarch could not even utter a 

brief sentence to humor the people without being prompted 

by the Queen, the royal family took up their quarters at 

the Tuileries, which had not been inhabited for three 

reigns, and was almost void of fimiiture. The ladies had 

to pass the first night on chairs, and the Queen and the 

Dauphin on mattresses. The next day Marie Antoinette 

excused herself to visitors for the poverty of her resources. 

The courage which had so long sustained the Queen 

gave way for a moment before the hinniliation of the 

monarchy. At her first reception of the diplomatic body, 

she sobbed audiljly. If she trembled, however, it was less 

for herself than for her children. She never let them go 

out of her sight. If she left the Tuileries on some errand 

of charity, the Prince and Princess accompanied her. Every 

day she is said to have performed some kmd act or other. 

Nor had she given up the interest which she had always 

taken in political matters. She consulted at this crisis with 

the ministers, and it was mauily left with her to bring the 

King to a decision, either to act himself, or to retire to 

some strong place and let others act. But the King was 

incapable of a decision. All she could get from him was 

his consent to withdraw to Samt-Cloud, and where he 

awaited the republic as he had the month of October, 



78 THE COURT OF FRANCE. 

when the Genius of Eevokition asked audience of the 
Queen. 

It is now some time since we have told the story of M. 
de la Marck's relations with Mirabeau from the published 
correspondence of the former. When the fact was made 
known to Marie Antoinette that the great democratic ora- 
tor was approachable by bribery, her reply was, " We 
shall never be so unfortunate, I think, as to be reduced to 
the painful necessity of having recourse to Mirabeau." But 
a few days elapsed, however, before she was obliged to 
enter into those negotiations with the man whom she 
designated as " a monster," and in whose presence, at their 
first interview on the third of July, 1790, she betrayed 
such evident signs of terror as to fiU the tux'bulent dema- 
gogue's bosom with ^^ity and pride, tUl in his characteristic 
boastful manner he promised a throne to the son of the 
Queen of France ! — he who could no longer control the 
revolutionary flames he had so long helped to fan into a 
blaze. Still the royal family had confidence in him, and 
with his death, which followed the very same year that he 
sold himself to the Bourljons, they lost all hopes. 

The attempted flight of the I'oyal family to Varennes, 
cursorily passed over in the Memoirs before us, only served 
to render their position worse. After that, both King and 
Queen were subjected to a most harassing surveillance. 
Marie Antoinette, however, by a peculiarity not a little 
characteristic, had, on the occasion of the capture at Va- 
rennes, won the affections of a young commissary of the 
Assembly called Barnave. This noble young man aban- 
doned the cause he had thoughtlessly thrown himself 
into, and thenceforth devoted himself to that of the Queen. 
Unfortunately it was too late ; it was not in the power of 
any individual, however eloquent or influential, to stay the 
Revolution. At the same time that Marie Antoinette was 
obliged to send her friend Madame de Lamballe to Eng- 
land, m order to induce Pitt not to let the French mon- 



QUEEN MARIE ANTOINETTE. 79 

archy perish, a scauclalous outrage was being perpetrated 
in Paris. Madame de la Motte had been summoned before 
the Assembly, where she had protested her innocence on 
the subject of the diamond necklace, whilst a member had 
denoimced the Queen as the actual criminal, and demanded 
that the trial should be gone over again ! 

Amidst all these difficulties and dangers, which had 
blanched her hair as if she had been seventy years of 
age, Marie Antoinette still devoted herself incessantly to 
business. She wrote all day long, and her foreign letters 
were indited by means of a cipher, the key to which was 
to be found in "Paul and Virginia." Her secret correspond- 
ence with Leopold II., with Burke, and others, has been 
preserved in the archives of the empire. The Queen, in 
her incessant efforts to comlaat the Revolution, to preserve 
the monarchy and the inheritance of her son, had various 
difficulties to encounter besides such as naturally arose 
from the circumstances themselves ; such were the counsels 
of the Kmg's sister, ever advocating emigration, and the 
more dio-nified exhortations of Madame Elizabeth to fight 
for the crown ; but after all, none were more perplexing 
and more fatal than the King's incapability of forming a 
resolution. 

In the mean time the twentieth of June arrived. Half 
the day had passed over like other days, — in waiting for 
what next would turn up, — when a loud noise proclaimed 
the advent of the people. It was another October ! The 
palace was invaded and sacked. The Queen, with a red 
cap which had been 23laced on her head to save her life, 
said to the women who were insulting her even to spit> 
ting in her face, " Did you ever see me before ? Have I 
ever done you an injury? You have been deceived. I am 
French. I was happy when you loved me." And the fu- 
ries hesitated before that sweet and sorrowfid voice. Even 
the fat Santerre said, " Take off that red cap from that 
child's head, (the Dauphin's ;) don't you see how hot he 



80 THE COURT OF FRANCE. 

is ? " Poor child ! who the next day, when there was a 
struggle in the court-yard of the chateau, said, " Hainan, 
est ce qu'hier n'est pas fini ? " 

The clever and courageous Marie Antoinette committed 
an error at this epoch. General Lafayette, who never 
aimed at any greater change than that of constitutional 
monarchy, was greatly annoyed at the excesses of the 
twentieth of June. He declared before the Assembly that 
the constitution had been violated, and he demanded that 
the authors of such a crime should be j)uuished. He at 
the same time professed his allegiance to the royal flimily ; 
but the Queen, who had transacted with Mirabeau and 
intrigued with Baruave, had the imprudence to reject the 
overtures made by Lafayette. " It was better," she said, 
" to perish than to be indebted for their safety to the man 
who had done them the greatest mischief" 

Matters then began to precipitate themselves. There 
was no longer any restraint to insults, and threats grew 
more loud and vociferous. This state of things lasted for 
seven long months. On the ninth of August, between 
eleven and twelve at night, the Queen heard the alarm-bell 
of the Hotel de Ville. Soon a shot was heard in the 
courtryard of the Tuileries. " There is the first," she said ; 
" unfortunately it will not be the last." The crisis had 
arrived ; the Queen was prepared for it. She made Petion, 
the mayor of Paris, sign an order for the National Guard 
to repel force by force. She did the last thing she could 
do to save the King's honor, — she preserved to him the 
jiower of dying with the law in one hand and a sword in 
the other. But alas ! Louis XVI. was no hero. He was, 
on the contrary, among the weakest of men. In spite of 
the opposition of Marie Antoinette, he the very next morn- 
ing permitted Petion and Mandat, the commander-in-chief 
of the National Guard, to join the revolutionary party un- 
der the most flimsy pretences. The Queen left the King's 
room, saying "there was no longer anything to be hoped 



QUEEN MARIE ANTOINETTE. 81 

for." Nor did glie return there till a deputation was an- 
nounced from tlie Directory. Rcederer came to "inform the 
King that there was no longer any safety for him hut 
with the National Assembly. It was in vain that the 
Queen combated against the King's weakness. He yielded 
without an eflbrt. All that Marie Antoinette could say in 
her anger was, " Vous ordonnerez avant tout, monsieiu-, 
que je sois clouee aux murs de ce palais ! " 

All the way from the Tuileries to the Feuillants the 
imfortmiate Queen and mother did nothing but weep. The 
crowd hustled her so, that both her purse and her watch 
were stolen. Arrived at the Assembly, the royal party 
were immured in a closet, secured with iron bars, in the 
rear of the president's chair, and called " la loge du logo- 
graphe." At two in the morning, after that long sitting in 
which Vergniaud had proclaimed the chief of the executive 
power to be deposed, and had called upon the people to 
form a National Convention, the Queen was removed to a 
cell in the old Convent des Feuillants. For three days 
were the royal family thus made to listen to the discus- 
sions that ensued, and to hear their lives clamored for. 
At length, on the thirteenth of August, they were re- 
moved to the Temple. The Queen had a shoe on from 
which her foot issued forth. " Vous ne croyiez pas," she 
said, smilingly, " que la reine de France manquerait de 
souliers." 

Marie Antoinette was lodged in the second story of the 
little tower. There were with her Madame Royale and 
Madame de Lamballe. The Dauphin was in a room close 
by with Madame de Tourzel and la Dame de Saint-Brice. 
Five days passed thus, when, on the eighteenth of August, 
two municipal officers brought the order for the sepai'ation 
of the royal family from their followers. It was a sad and 
cruel scene, that melted the heart even of Manuel, who 
had said to the King, " Sire, je n'aime pas les rois." But 
this was not all ; not only Avas the Queen deprived of the 
11 



82 THE COURT OF FRANCE. 

assistance and consolation of her faitliful friends and fol- 
lowers, but their place was filled by spies. The Queen 
and mother, for her children were now in the same room 
with herself, knew no liljerty save in the hours stolen from 
the darkness of night. 

Still the Queen did not wholly despair. " She still be- 
heved in France and in Providence." M. de Malesherbes, 
offering hunself as the King's defender, also awakened some 
hojies. But she had severe trials to encounter, and these 
momentary hopes were at times dashed to the ground, and 
changed to the deepest despair. Such was the day (Sep- 
tember third) when the crowd shouted for the Queen to ap- 
pear at the window of the Temple, and she was only pre- 
vented from going by the municipal Mennessier. When the 
King inquired wherefore this opposition to her wUl, "Well," 
said one of the men, " if you wish to know, it is the head 
of Madame de Lamballe that they wish to show you." 

Such were the scenes that relieved the monotony of life 
in the Temple. On ordinary days the Dauj)liin went each 
morning to the King, who tutored him in Latin and ge- 
ography, whilst the Queen was similarly occujtied in the 
education of her daughter. At two o'clock all dined to- 
gether, and sometimes after dinner the King and Queen 
would play a game of backgammon, or have a hand of 
cards. The rest of the day was relieved by needlework, 
reading, or music. At night, the King would step to the 
bedside of the sleeping Dauphin, after a few moments 
would jiress the hand of the Queen and of Madame Eliza- 
betli, his sister, kiss his daughter, and then retire. 

On the third of September there was once more a 
clamor in the streets. The Rei^ublic had been declared. 
On the twenty-ninth the Commune issued its decree to 
separate Louis Capet from Marie Antomette. The ex-King 
was removed to the great tower of the Temple. The 
Queen's tears and supplications obtained for her, however, 
permission to dine with her husband, on the condition, 



QUEEN MARIE ANTOINETTE. 83 

however, that no word should be spoken so low as to 
escape the ears of the commissaries. On the twenty-sixth 
of October the Queen herself was removed to the great 
tower, and, to cumulate her aflliction, her son was taken 
away from her. Aboiit the middle of November the King 
and the Dauphin, deprived of all exercise, fell ill ; the un- 
fortunate Queen was not allowed to attend upon them. 

On the seventh of December, the King furtively in- 
formed the Queen that he was to be tried forthwith by 
the Convention. The trial was soon followed by that 
solemn scene, the parting. The weak but pious old mon- 
arch blessed the Dauphin, and made him swear that he 
would pardon those who had put his father to death. The 
blood of Maria Theresa once more broke forth at this 
scene, and, turning to the municipals, the Queen exclaimed, 
with a terrible voice, " Vous etes tons des scelerats." 
Three women passed that night trembling and weeping, 
whilst a poor child, escaping from their aims, said to the 
commissaries, " Let me pass. I will go and ask the people 
not to kill my papa the King." A few hours more, and 
the booming of great guns announced to Marie Antoinette 
that the child had no longer a father. 

Marie Antoinette was indebted to the Re^sublic for mourn- 
mg for herself and children. Greatly changed, too, was the 
Queen now. It was no longer the laughter-loving, playful, 
sarcastic Austrian Prmcess, it was the widow of a mur- 
dered monarch, pale and haggard, yet serene, without a 
hope, except it might be a sigh for her children, calmly 
awaiting and preparing herself for death. Hopes, for some 
time extinct, were for a moment revived by the numerous 
and oftrrepeated attempts made by friends to procure her 
escape from prison, but the failure of these only increased 
the sufferings and torments of the prisoner. The son was 
definitively removed from the mother, and on the second 
of August, 1793, Marie Antoinette was removed to the 
Conciergerie. 



84 THE COURT OF FRANCE. 

The days and the months that elapsed between the sep- 
aration of the Queen from her children, her incarceration 
at the Conciergerie, and her trial, seemed very long to a 
woman awaiting the death that would not come. The 
ardor of the revolutionists, who desired nothing so much 
as to see " la louve autrichienne raccourcie," was damped 
by the difficulty of finding proofs. Marie Antoinette had 
had the precaution to destroy all her letters before the 
revolt of the tenth of August. At a conciergerie there 
are naturally concierges, and, happily, these were true 
types of their race, genuine Pipelets, rough in the husk, 
but humane in the kernel. Marie Antoinette's condition 
was much improved to what it had been at the Temple ; 
but, unfortunately, rash attempts to effect her evasion — 
more especially the mad proceedings of the Chevalier de 
Rougeville, "un de ces fous devouement qui ne manqueront 
jamais en France" — frustrated all the benefits that would 
otherwise have accrued to her from change of guardians. 

All at once Marie Antoinette was led forth to the Palais 
de Justice and cross-examined. But, taken thus unawares, 
and without the aid of counsel, she said nothing to commit 
either herself or others. The next day her puljlic trial 
was proceeded with, and she was allowed for counsel citi- 
zens Chauveau-Lagarde and Troucon Ducoudray. The farce 
(for such, if its results had not been so tragical, and its 
proceedings so brutally disgraceful to human nature, it 
could alone be termed) lasted for days, from morning to 
night, till even the moral and physical energies of the 
daughter of Maria Theresa became exhausted. In the ab- 
sence of any criminal proofs against the doomed Queen, 
accusations were concocted, more especially by one Hebert, 
— may his name be forever desecrated, — of so foul a na- 
ture, that our biographers dare not do more than allude 
to them. But of what avail false accusations or a simu- 
lated defence ? Of what avail the mdignant denials of 
a persecuted queen, woman, and mother ? Her fate was 



QUEEN MARIE ANTOINETTE. 85 

sealed before the force of a trial was commenced. " C'est 
tout le peuple fram^'ais qui accuse Marie Antoinette ! " the 
President Herman declared ; and he might have added, the 
Republic fears her, and wills her death to get rid of their 
apprehensions and to stifle their consciences. Marie An- 
toinette was condemned to death. She received the decree 
without a movement, and, descendmg from the dock, her 
forehead uplifted, she opened the gate hereelf, and was led 
away to her j)rison-home. 

We have now come to the last act of this sad and 
mournful tragedy. Our authors have not contented them- 
selves with a compilation from the pages of Madame Cam- 
pan, the Pere Duchene, Montjoie, Bault, Iliie, Clery, and 
other well-known authorities, they have ransacked bulletins, 
archives, secret memoirs, and the papers of the day, m the 
earnest endeavor to render their account of this terrible 
cata.strophe more complete than any that have preceded it. 
Still, it is essentially the same well-known picture, a pale- 
faced, resigned queen, slowly driven to the scafibld in a 
cart, her back to the horse, her elbows held back by a 
cord in the hands of the executioner, her long neck, "col 
de grue," as P&re Duchene had it, supporting with diffi- 
culty a head wasted by suffering and emotion, its blanched 
hairs buried beneath a cap that the lowest bourgeois would 
have repudiated ; a priest with whom Marie Antoinette — 
"qui s'est confess^e a Dieu seul" — would have little or 
nothing to do ; a vast crowd on the tiptoe of expectation 
from daybreak to noon, heaping their ribald insults on a 
defenceless victim; one little child sending a kiss with its 
hand to the broken-hearted mother — it was the only time 
she wept on the long, long way to the scaffold — " La 
veuve de Louis XVI. descendit pom- mourir oii etait mort 
son mari. La mere de Lotus XVIL tourna un moment les 
yeux du cote des Tuileries, et devint plus pale qu'elle 
n'avoit ete jusqu'alors. Puis la reine de France monta a 
I'echafaud, et se precipita a la mort." 



86 THE COURT OF FRANCE. 

The people shouted out " Vive la repuUiquc ! " when 
Sanson held forth the head of Marie Antoinette to their 
ferocious gaze, Avhilst beneath the guillotine the gendai-me 
Mingault was dipping his handkerchief in the blood of the 
martyr. Thus terminated this fearful tragedy, which has 
seldom been equalled in the history of the world. In the 
words of a historian, the death of Marie Antoinette was a 
calumny to France, — a dishonor to the Revolution. 



THE PROCESS LAMBALLE. 



Historic trao-edies have their lessons of mstruction to 
after-generations ; they tell their sad tales of soitow and 
anguish, which make ears tingle and hearts weej) in sym- 
pathy. They form graphic chapters in the history of our 
common humanity, however much we may reluctate to 
own the relationship). The mind almost refuses to believe 
that the dreadful scenes and tragedies of the French Revo- 
lution, so forcibly styled " the Reign of Terror," occurred 
in Imperial Paris, the gorgeous capital of France, and the 
most fashionable emporium of the present modern world, 
and within the recollection of many persons now livmg, 
even amono- our friends and neighbors. 

Marie Therese Louise Lamballe, of Savoy, Princess of 
Carignan, was born at Turin, September 8, 1749. She 
was married to the Duke of Bourbon Penthievre, by whom 
she was left a widow, young, beautiful, and amiable. She 
was early remarked for her intelligence, sweetness of tem- 
per, and personal beauty. In 1767, she was married to 
the Prince of Lamballe, son of the Duke of Bourbon-Pen- 
thievre. This union was not happy, and the Princess was 
about to seek a separation when her husband died. May 7, 
1768. On the death of Marie Leszczynska and Madame 
Pompadour, a marriage was proposed between her and 
Louis XV. ; but the project was defeated by Choiseul and 
his adherents. When Marie Antoinette came to France, 
she conceived a strong attachment for the Princess, and on 
her accession to the throne, appointed her superintendent 
of the Royal Household. The Princess in return proved a 



88 THE COURT OF FRANCE. 

devoted friend. She saw without jealousy the growing 
favor of the Duchess of Polignac, and silently kept aloof; 
but when the latter, on the breaking out of the Eevolu- 
tion, deserted her mistress, she returned to her post. She 
was at the Queen's side on the dreadful days of June 20, 
and August 10, 1792, and accompanied her to the Legisla- 
tive Assembly and afterwards to the Temple. On August 
19, she was separated from her mistress and confined in 
the prison of La Force, where, despite the most energetic 
measures to save her, she fell a victim to the September 
massacre. When she appeared before the tribunal which 
passed sentence upon the prisoners, she answered with 
firmness and dignity. She refused to take the oath against 
the King, the Queen, and the monarchy, and scarcely had 
the verdict, " Out with her," been uttered, when she was 
struck do^vn with a billet by a drummer-boy, and de- 
spatched with a sword. A butcher-boy cut off her head ; 
her body was strij^ped naked and exposed to the crowd; 
her heart Avas torn out, still palpitating, and placed with 
her head upon a pike, and these bloody troj)hies were car- 
ried first to the Palais Royal, where the Duke of Orleans 
— her brother-in-law — was forced to salute them, and then 
to the Temple, where they Avere j^araded mider the win- 
dows of the unfortunate Queen and her wretched family. 
Not satisfied with this, the diabolical monsters went in pro- 
cession dragging the mangled body, with fresh insults, tri- 
umphantly through the streets. This illustrious female was 
one of the most innocent victims of the Revolution ; her 
name was never attacked with revolutionary or lil^eUous in- 
vectives ; and though her tyrants cut her off hy a horrid 
assassination, they never dared to asperse her character. 



THE AMBASSADOK'S BALL. 



Among the persons of distinction who composed the 
highest society of Paris in 1810, none were more con- 
spicuous than the Austrian ambassador, Prince Carl von 
Schwartzenberg, and his family. The Prince himself, a 
handsome, stately man, dignified, yet popiilar and easy 
in his bearing, distinguished both in the council-chamber 
and in the field, was a really imposing representative of 
his imperial master. Not less remarkable was his charm- 
ing princess ; a rare iutelhgence, grace, fascination, and 
sincere amiability all combined to fit her for her brill- 
iant position. The prince and princess held at their mag- 
nificent Hotel de Legation, Rue de Mont Blanc, a court — 
in all but its name and tedious ceremonials. Here French 
and Germans met on common ground, unfettered by the 
uneasiness, restraint, and smothered suspicion which dark- 
ened the atmosphere of St. Cloud. Here, on the contrary, 
there seemed to be good-will and friendliness for all — a 
moral sunshine in which even strangers gladly came to 
bask. To those who were admitted to any degree of in- 
timacy with the family, the source of this pervading light 
and warmth remained no secret. Beneath the splendors of 
the Hotel de Legation there flourished all the simple vir- 
tues of household affections. Husband and wife loved each 
other tenderly, as it was not the fashion for French hus- 
bands and wives to love in those days ; a charming family 
was growing up about them ; they had a circle of valued 
household friends. Prince Joseph von Schwartzenberg, the 
ambassador's elder brother, had also taken up his residence 

12 



90 THE COURT OF FRANCE. 

in Paris. The bi'otliers were deeply attached to each 
other ; theii" children had the same masters, and lived 
like brothers and sisters together ; each family shared and 
heightened the other's pleasures. No wonder that, amidst 
the false glitter of the empire, this home-happiness, — quiet, 
pure, and true, — should have exercised a subtle charm on 
those who came within its influence. 

Of all the festivities which had taken place in honor of 
the nuptials of Marie Louise, that of the Hotel de Lega- 
tion was to be the crown. It was not considered simply 
as a ball given by the ambassador ; it was the fete of 
Austria herself in honor of a daughter of the House of 
Hapsburg. Every Austrian m Paris felt himself personally 
compromised in the success of this entertainment, which 
was to be on a scale of far greater magnificence than any 
which had preceded it. If Austria had been forced to lay 
down her arms on the field of Wagram, here at least 
France should confess herself vanquished. The fete was to 
take place on the first of July, and for weeks beforehand, 
an army of workmen were employed in the necessary prep- 
arations. As the time drew near, they worked in relays, 
day and night. Indeed, those whose turn fell in the night 
were more fortunate than their brethren, for the heat by 
day was intense ; the paint blistered the wood-work, the 
stone-blocks glowed under that bui-ning sun. Scarcely a 
drop of rain had fallen for weeks; the foliage withered in 
every direction, as if under the breath of a simoon ; the 
turf and boughs required for decoration had to be kept 
fresh by artificial means. The hotel itself, it was thought, 
would not be large enough for the occasion, so the man- 
sion next door to it was hired, and the two buildings 
thrown into one. But the grand baU-room, a palace in 
itself for size and magnificence, was erected of solid wood- 
work in the garden. Its roof and walls, covered on the 
outside with waxed cloth, were decorated in the interior 
with tapestry, and aU the resources of upholstery and taste 



THE AIMBASSADOR'S BALL. 91 

expended in the arrangement of mirrors, candelabra, col- 
ored lamps, and every kind of dazzling ornament. The 
roof, which was dome-shaped, was supported by wooden 
pillars covered with white satin damask, striped in gold 
and silver, and festooned with muslin, gauze, and other 
light fabrics, bound hy wreaths of artificial flowers. Mas- 
sive glass-lustres swung on gold and silver chams from the 
roof, and were combined in one graceful and harmonious 
whole with the other decorations, by means of floating 
draperies, flowers, and ribbons. At one end of this pavilion 
rose a dais, carpeted with cloth of gold, on which two 
throne-chairs were placed for the Emperor and his bride ; 
at the opposite end, was a gallery for the orchestra. There 
were three entrances to the baU-room beside that for the 
musicians at the back of the orchestra, — one behind the 
dais, communicating with the mansion; another into a wide 
long gallery, temporary like the ball-room, and decorated 
to match it ; this gallery ran parallel with the hotel, and 
had several doors communicating with it and with the gar- 
dens. But the principal entrance to the baU-room was a 
magnificent portal, from which a flight of broad steps led 
down mto the gardens, where every arrangement had been 
made to facilitate the ing-ress and egress of the crowd of 
guests. Over the portal shone in illuminated letters the 
following mscription, in German, Avhich some friend of 
Prince Schwartzenberg, inspired evidently by the muse who 
presides over mottoes for crackers and bonbons, imj^rovised 
for the occasion : 

" With gentle Beauty's charm is glorious Valor bound ! 
AH hail ! the golden age again on earth is found ! " 

So rose the light, graceful structure, as by the wand of 
some architectui'al Ariel ; it looked, with its gold-worked 
tapestries, the bridal whiteness of the diaphanous draperies, 
the lustre and color afforded l^y silver, gold, flowers, mir- 
rors, chandeliers, and costly oi'naments of every description, 



92 THE COURT OF FRANCE. 

as if it had been transplanted out of the Thousand and 
One Nights. There was only one calamity to be dreaded : 
that long, low bank of cloud, in which the sun had set on 
the last of June, looked ominous enough ; what if the rain 
should pour down in torrents next day, as fete-givers and 
fete -goers know too well it seems to take a malicious 
pleasure in doing on such occasions ? What would become 
of the ball-room and all its magnificence then ? Fortu- 
nately, the first of July set all fear of such a provoking 
coidre-icmps at rest ; the sun blazed out of a sky without a 
cloud. Every preparation was happily complete, and with 
the comfortable certainty that not the smaUest detail had 
been overlooked Avhich would add distinction to so grand 
a festivity, the ambassador, his family, and friends betook 
themselves to the lighter cares of the toilet, not without 
congratrdations among the younger Austrian officers on the 
superior brilUaucy of their national miiform over that of 
their French rivals. 

It was still broad daylight when the Hotel de Legation 
was illuminated, and already in quick, and still quicker 
succession, the carriages of the guests rolled between the 
crowd which lined the streets. A grenadier detachment of 
the Imperial Guard had betimes occupied the posts assigned 
them. The Austrian nolnlity were in readiness to receive 
the arrivals, and every lady was presented with a beau- 
tiful bouquet before being conducted to the ball-room, 
now rapidly filUng. The rank and dignity of the guests 
increased with every minute ; kings and queens had al- 
ready been announced, and now there was a pause of 
expectancy. At length the word of command to the 
troops, then the roll of drums, the crash of military music 
announced the approach of the imperial state carriage. 
The two families of Schwartzenberg and Metternich re- 
ceived the Emperor and Marie Louise. After a short con- 
gratulatory address from the amljassador, and when the 
Empress had accepted a bouquet from the princely ladies, 



THE AMBASSADOR'S BALL. 93 

her husband, taking her hand, conducted her to the ball- 
room. Many persons, who had a near view of Napoleon 
for the first time, remarked the regular beauty of his 
features, but all were struck with the fixed, iron character 
of his fixce. His deportment was stern and unbending, 
almost that of a man in some fit of iU-humored sullenness. 
Not a gleam of kindliness in the eye, — • its glance darting 
straight forward like that of an eagle on its prey ; not 
even a forced smile jjlayed upon those inflexible lips, which 
seemed as if they could only open to utter some terrible 
command. Napoleon declined the refreshments offered, and 
promenaded with the Empress through the reception-rooms, 
galleries, and ball-room in an abstracted manner, negli- 
gently addressing a few words here and there, and casting 
quick, sharp glances over the brilliant throng. They shrank 
almost visibly from his gaze. That stern, dark presence 
spread an indefinable gloom over this grand festival ; it 
was much like the appearance of some schoolmaster, infi- 
nitely more feared than loved, among a troop of children 
enjoying themselves at a pujipet-show. 

This feeling weighed upon the guests as they silently 
followed the imperial couple through the illuminated gar- 
dens. What was lacking in mirth, however, music did her 
best to supply, for bands, both instrumental and vocal, 
were stationed at different spots, who burst into choral 
songs and symphonies, at the approach of the Emperor. 
The Austrians had pre2Dared a flattermg surprise for Marie 
Louise. Seats placed upon a lawn invited Napoleon and 
herself to rest ; and here an exact model of the famihar 
castle of Saxonberg, brilliantly illuminated, presented itself 
to her eyes ; while there emerged from the shrubberies a 
troop of opera-dancers in the costume of Austrian peasants, 
who went through the national dances of her country. 
Then followed a pantomimic war and peace, where Mars 
displayed nothing more formidable than the honors of vic- 
tory, and Peace came attended by every image of hapjii- 



94 THE COURT OF FRANCE. 

ness and prosperity. This was hardly over when a great 
flourish of trumpets announced the arrival of a courier, 
who, booted, spurred, and covered with dust, presented his 
despatches to the Emperor. A murmur of some conquest 
in Spain ran through the assembly, but Napoleon, who was 
in the secret, proclauned the corresjiondence to be from 
Vienna, and presented the Empress with a bond fide letter 
from her father, written purjjosely to grace this occasion. 
After a display of fireworks, the company returned to the 
grand ball-room, and the Emperor, having paused at the 
portal to spell out the meaning of the German Alexan- 
drines, took his place with his bride on the da'is, and the 
orchestra struck up. 

The ball was opened by the Queen of Naples with 
Prmce Esterhazy, and Eugene, Viceroy of Italy, with the 
Prmcess Schwartzenberg. While the dancing was going on, 
the imperial couple promenaded the room in opposite di- 
rections, conversed slightly with different persons, and gave 
an opportunity for the presentation of strangers, and those 
yoimger meml:)ers of French and Austrian nobility who 
made their cUbui into society at this grand fete. Marie 
Louise soon resumed her seat, but Napoleon remained at 
the other end of the pavilion, conversing first with one, 
then with another. The Princess Schwartzenberg presented 
her yoimg daughters to him, and received his compliments 
on the magnificence of the arrangements. The Princess 
felt while she hstened to them that all anxieties and fears 
with regard to the entertainment might now fliirly be laid 
aside ; never could ball-room present a more brilliant spec- 
tacle, never coidd fete promise a grander success. The 
hearts of both host and hostess grew light as they saw 
Napoleon in the best possible humor, evidently bent upon 
being polite after his fashion. It was now past midnight; 
the revelry was at its height ; the whirl of the dance had 
completely broken the gene of the great conqueror's pres- 
ence. Dukes and duchesses, princes and princesses, kings 



THE AMBASSADOR'S BALL. 95 

and queens, were all enjoying themselves like ordinaiy 
mortals. There were silvery laughter, sweet low voices, 
and glances stiU more sweet and eloquent; plenty of whis- 
pering and flirtation going on under cover of the music, 
especially in the less thronged galleries among the younger 
portion of the assembly. Tiaraed ladies, and bestarred 
and beribboned gentlemen, verging upon fifty, but success- 
fully got up to seem twenty years younger, were looking 
forward with gentle anticipation to the supper, lying in 
state of gold and silver in a suite of banqueting-rooms. 
Some of the guests were proud of their jewels, their wit, 
or their grace ; some women were proud of their ovnn 
beauty, others of the beauty of their daughters, but not 
an Austrian present was there who was not proi;d of the 
ball ; and well they might be. Under those snowy dra- 
peries, the light fell fidl and brilliant on such an assembly 
as Paris has hardly gathered since ; jewels flashed, plumes 
waved, decorations glittered, to be midtiplied infinitely in 
countless mirrors, — the magnificent pavilion showed like 
one vast restless sea of splendor. Vague forebodings are 
rife in the minds of men, but why should they enter here ? 
what room here for a thought of broken faith, — a sigh for 
the cast-off wife at Malmaison? why should a dark fancy 
see in the cold, shrinking girl on the dais an image of 
Iphigenia at the altar ? Away with all ill-timed fancies ! 
The orchestra strikes up a waltz ; gayer, louder is the 
music; quicker, and stUl more quick the measure of the 
dance. 

There is a slight stir at that end of the ball-room where 
Napoleon is standing : the merest trifle, — the flame from 
one of the lamps has laid hold of a gauze festoon. The 
light, harmless-looking blaze has vanished instantly ; a few 
flakes fell, which Count Bentheun extinguishes with his 
hat. It is quite over now — no, not quite ; that is fire 
creeping there along that drapery overhead. Quick as 
thought. Count Damanion, one of the Emperor's chamber- 



96 THE COURT OF FRANCE. 

lains, climbs a pillar, tears it down, and cruslies out the 
flame in a moment. But look there — higher than any 
one can reach, what are those fiery tongues darting out 
from the fluted muslin straight over the orchestra ? The 
music was hushed at once ; the band huri-ying to escape 
by the door leading into the gardens, at the laack of the 
orchestra, gave free passage to the night air. A rising 
wind blew very freshly in, and fanned the flames into in- 
stant fury. Wave after wave of fire surged over the whole 
roof; burning fragments were falling everywhere on the 
light draperies below and the ladies' dresses. The Emperor 
had at once made his way to the da'is ; some of his air 
tendants, bewildered by the sudden alarm, suspected treach- 
ery, and pressed closely around him, their swords drawn in 
their hands. He himself was perfectly calm and composed ; 
attended by the ambassador, with the Empress on his arm, 
he left the pavilion with no more haste than he had en- 
tered it, exhorting the crowd, as he passed along, to keep 
order. On the first alarm. Prince Schwartzenberg had 
desjjatched an adjutant to order the imperial carriage to a 
private gate into the gardens near at hand ; but Napoleon, 
when this was nearly reached, turned suddenly round, and 
refused in the most perem23tory manner to leave by any 
but the principal entrance. His decision was no doubt 
formed under the idea that if this accident were connected 
Avith a design upon his hfe, the narrowness and seclusion 
of the by- street into which the other gateway ojiened 
would favor the plans of conspirators. The carriage had to 
be ordered back, and thus a cruel delay ai'ose for Prince 
Schwartzenberg, waiting with death in his heart beside 
Napoleon, Avho remained silent and unmoved, the Empress 
trembling on his arm, the din of that dreadfid tumult in 
their ears, the glare of the conflagration increasing every 
moment. Not more than one minute had passed between 
the first alarm and the Emperor's departure, yet the flames 
had spread with such frightful rapidity that it was already 



THE AMBASSADOR'S BALL. 97 

impossible to save the ball-room. Tolerable composure had 
been hitherto maintained, but the restraint of Napoleon's 
presence withdrawn, every consideration gave way, and in 
agony and violence the tumultuous multitude pressed to- 
wards the doors. 

One of the German guests thus describes the scene. 
" I had escaped," he says, " from the oppression and heat 
of the Ijall-room into the galler}^, which was far less crowd- 
ed. On a sudden, wild shrieks and tumult rose. Rushing 
back to the pavilion, I saw the roof one mass of quivering 
flames, leaping and spreading in every direction. There 
was no time, however, to lo^k on ; a surging crowd drove 
me back with them into the hotel. I disengaged myself 
from them, and regained the scene of the accident through 
the gardens. The immense pavilion was now in a uni- 
versal blaze ; the flames actually seemed to pursue the 
stream of fugitives. Heavy lustres were fallmg ; planks, 
boards, and beams dashed burning together. The wood- 
work, — exposed as it had been to the sun, — the paiat, and 
di'aperies, were burning like fireworks, and all the water 
poured on from the fire-engines seemed to have no effect 
whatever upon the fury of the flames. While I stood 
looking on for a few seconds, they darted high above the 
roof of the gallery ; heavy beams were falling close behind 
me, and I was obliged to escape while there was yet time 
into the gardens. Never can I forget the spectacle there 
presented, that dreadful confusion of personal danger, fear, 
and agony. Some were rushing about, their light dresses 
on fire ; others had been thrown down and trampled under 
foot. Husbands were seeking their wives, mothers crying 
frantically for their daughters ; groans of suffering, shrieks 
of horror, the cries of those who threw themselves with 
passionate joy into each other's arms, the wail of agony, 
the heart-rending appeals for help — all mingled in a horri- 
ble diapason." Many persons were severely injured by the 

13 



98 THE COURT OF FRANCE. 

flight of steps from the principal entrance giving way sud- 
denly. The Queens of Naples and Westphaha were both 
thrown dowai, and narrowly escaped being tramped to 
death. The Eussian ambassador, Prince Kurakin, was res- 
cued with great difficiUty by his friends ; other hands, less 
friendly, cut all the diamond buttons off his coat. Every 
distinction of rank was suddenly levelled in that assembly; 
stars, ribbons, nay, majesty itself, were jostled by servants, 
soldiers, and workmen ; the firemen, half-intoxicated, pushed 
their way through the crowd ; royal ladies were elbowed 
by musicians and opera-dancers ; and as a backgromid to 
this scene of confusion, rose higher, fiercer, more general 
every moment, the terrible conflagration, paling and mock- 
ing the illuminations of the gardens. The hotel itself had 
now caught fire ; the alarm had spread everywhere ; and 
the streets were thronged with people crying out that half 
Paris would be burned down. 

The saddest part of the story remains still to be told. 
When the fire broke out. Prince Joseph von Schwartzen- 
berg was standmg m conversation with the Empress. His 
first care was for his wife, the Princess Pauline, whom he 
had left only a few minutes before in another part of the 
room. He searched the ball-room for her m vain, and was 
assured hj several persons that she was already in the 
gardens ; there many people declared they had seen her 
carried, fainting, indeed, but otherwise uninjured, into the 
hotel. Prince Joseph eagerly repaired thither, but only to 
find a lady, a perfect stranger to him, who remarkably 
resembled his princess. Hurrying back in an agony, his 
daughter, frightfully Ijurnt, was l^rought to him ; the prin- 
cess had gained the gardens in safety, but returned for her 
child; they were escaping together, when a mass of blazing 
wood-work fell, and separated them. This was all the poor 
girl had to tell. At this moment, the torturing pre- 
sentiment which had laid hold of the unhappy husband 
passed through every degree, and certainty flashed upon 



THE AMBASSADOR'S BALL. 99 

his mind with a lioht more fearful than that of the con- 
flagration. As he approached the paviHon, his eye fell 
upon an ominous sight, — the Princess von Leyen, her rich 
dress hanging in fragments, the diadem she had worn 
burnt deeply into her forehead. She had only been res- 
cued from the flames to linger a few days in suffering ; 
and, alas ! those who had brought her out told that they 
had seen a figure in the midst of the fire whom it was 
impossible to save. On hearing these words. Prince Joseph 
broke away from his friends, and would have rushed uj) 
the burning steps, when floor and ceiling crashed into one 
ruin, volumes of raging fire and smoke poured forth, and 
— all was over. 

So swift had been the destroyer in its work, that hardly 
a quarter of an hour had elapsed between the accident, 
seemingly so shght, to the gauze festoon, and this final act 
of the tragedy. For one minute, this awfid spectacle sus- 
pended the restless agony of the crowd, and while they 
stood stupefied before it, the Emperor, in his well-known 
gray coat, suddenly reappeared among them. Under liis 
orders, the strangers present withdrew without confusion ; 
every entrance to the grounds was guarded by soldiers ; 
the important contents of the archive-room, on which the 
fire had seized, were conveyed into a ])\ace of safety. Na- 
poleon himself directed the efforts made for extinguishing 
the fire, and the search for the missing Prmcess Paidine 
von Schwartzenberg. Tliis was entirely unsuccessful ; not 
a clew could be obtained to her fate, though every house 
in the vicinity and those of all her friends were visited, 
and the smouldering ruins carefuUy searched. Prince Jo- 
seph hovered about, appearing now in the gardens, now in 
the different apartments, ready to sink from exhaustion, 
yet roused into activity through his restless anguish. Even 
Napoleon found pity for the unhappy man ; he joined his 
friends in trying to persuade him to withdraw, and ad- 
dressed a few words of encouragement and hope to him 



100 THE COURT OF FRANCE. 

from time to time. But the presence and words of the 
Emperor made no impression on his stubborn despair ; he 
had no ear save for the death-cry in his heart, and for the 
reports — always the same — of the messengers sent hither 
and thither on their hopeless quest. 

Not till the fire had been well got imder did Napoleon 
return to St. Cloud. He left behind him a thousand soldiers 
of the Imperial Guard, who bivouacked there for the night, 
and sat down to the sumptuous banquet prepared for very 
different guests. As if no element of horror were to be 
wanting, toward the morning a fearful thunder-storm broke 
over the smoking ruins. The rain now fell in torrents, and 
served to extinguish the fire completely. Where the sun 
had set on that palace ball- room, he now rose over a 
hideous heap of ruins, charred beams, shattered masonry, 
broken furniture, mirrors, and porcelain ; every chance hol- 
low was a pool of stagnant water. Fragments of lustres, 
swords, bracelets, and other ornaments lay fused together 
in masses. Nor was this all ; under a pile of half-burned 
wood-work, a corpse was discovered, blackened and shriv- 
elled almost out of human form. It could only be identi- 
fied as that of the missing princess by a jewelled necklace, 
on which the names of her eight children were engraved ; 
a ninth, yet unborn, perished with the ill-fated wife and 
mother. At this saddest of all sights, every voice was 
hushed ; tears stood in the eyes of all, even in those of 
the soldiers ; and at the moment, the last thunders of the 
storm, two heavy claps, rolled solemnly overhead. 

Dismal days succeeded this catastrophe. A universal 
gloom overspread Paris. There were dark whispers of con- 
spiracy, incendiarism, — reports that the enemies of Napo- 
leon had resolved by one bold stroke to rid themselves of 
the obnoxious ruler, his family, and his devoted fiiends. 
The obsequies of the Princess Pauline von Schwartzenberg 
were followed by those of the Princess von Leyen, and of 
several ladies of high rank, who died in consequence of 



THE AMBASSADOR'S BALL. 101 

injuries received. More than twenty persons lost their 
hves; the number of those more or less hurt was upwards 
of sixty. The deep and unwholesome impression produced 
on the public mind was unmistakable, an impression which 
resisted every effort made in high quarters to suppress 
and divert it. To the bulk of the peojale, Napoleon's 
divorce and subsequent marriage had been extremely dis- 
tasteful ; and this, not only because Josephine was imi- 
versally beloved, but that a superstitious behef had arisen 
— shared in some degree by her husband himself — that 
her presence was the good genius of his fortunes. Already 
there was a vague but popular prediction extant, that the 
dowry of an Austrian archduchess would bring bitter mis- 
fortunes to France and its chief; and now the memory of 
the terrible disaster attendant on the nuptials of Marie 
Antoinette, aunt to the Empress, with the Dauphin, was 
revived, and the present calamity considered a fresh proof 
that fate had a fearful warning in store for every alliance 
of France with the House of Haj^sburg. When, within a 
few years, the divorcer of Josephine was discrowned and 
forsaken, many prophets, wise aftei" the event, beheld in 
this fatal festival an omen of the downfall of the imperial 
fortunes. 




jlislil: 



THE EMPEROR CHARLEMAGNE. 



A LONG period intervenes in the annals of the Court of 
France between the Court of France under Charlemagne 
and that of Louis Napoleon. We present the portraits and 
aspects of the two in contrast with the long past and the 
present of that gorgeous and splendid court. Look back 
over the wide historic plains and mountains of more than a 
thousand years, and Ijehold the name and form and charac- 
ter of Charlemagne, the monarch emperor, towering up in 
colossal grandeur, high aljove all his compeers, like the 
pyramid of the Egyptian Cyclops. We have thought to 
give his lace and form an artistic resurrection, to gratify 
our readers, in looking upon an ancient man and monarch, 
who wielded mighty armies and swayed the sceptre of 
kingdoms, and who created for himself a historic fame, as 
lasting as the annals of time. In addition to this, there is 
a mde personal and family interest in the historic renown 
of Charlemagne, whose lineal descendants have acted a 
conspicuous part in the current of events as the broad 
stream of time has flowed down from the days of this 
great ancestor to the present time. His blood still flows 
in living veins, in manj^ human forms at the present day, 
in our cities and over our land, well known for their tal- 
ents, character, patriotic and Christian virtues, and the 
genial influence they have exerted upon the age in which 
they live. If he was among the living now, he would he 
the most famed of human antiquities, and only a few years 
older than that oldest of ancient patriarchs, Methuselah. 

Li looking at the personal character and position of 



104 THE COURT OF FRANCE. 

Charlemagne, as he appears in the historic asjaect of the 
age in which he Hved, it is obvious to remark, that there 
is somethhig indescribably grand m the figure of many of 
the barl>aric chiefs, — Alariks, Ataulfs, Theodoriks, and Eu- 
riks, — who succeeded to the power of the Romans, and, in 
their wild, heroic way, endeavored to raise a fabric of 
state on the ruins of the ancient empire. But none of 
those figures is so imposing and majestic as that of Charle- 
magne, the son of Pepin, whose name, for the first and 
only time in history, the admrnxtion of mankind has indis- 
soluljly blended with the title of Great. By the peculiarity 
of his position in respect to ancient and modern times, — 
hy the extraordinary length of his reign, by the number 
and importance of the transactions in which he was en- 
gaged, by the extent and splendor of his conquests, by his 
signal services to the Church, and by the grandeur of his 
personal qualities, — he impressed himself so profoundly 
upon the character of his times, that he stands almost 
alone and apart in the annals of Europe. For nearly a 
thousand years before hmi, or since the days of Julius 
Ca?sar, no monarch had won so universal and brilliant a 
renown ; and for nearly a thousand years after him, or 
until the days of Charles V. of Germany, no monarch at- 
tained anything like an equal dominion. A link between 
the old and new, he revived the Empire of the West, with 
a degree of glory that it had only enjoyed in its prime ; 
while at the same time, the modern history of every con- 
tinental nation was made to begin with him. Germany 
claims him as one of her most illustrious sons ; France, as 
her noisiest king ; Italy, as her chosen emperor ; and the 
Church, as her most prodigal benefactor and worthy saint. 
We quote from Parke Godwin's "History of Gaul." All the 
institutions of the Middle Ages — political, literary, scien- 
tific, and ecclesiastical — delighted to trace their tradition- 
ary origins to his hand : he was considered the source of 
the peerage, the inspirer of chivalry, the fovmder of the 



THE EMPEROR CHARLEMAGNE. 105 

universities, and the endower of the churches ; and the 
genius of romance, kindling its fantastic torches at the 
flame of liis deeds, lighted up a new and marvellous world 
about him, filled with wonderful adventm'es and heroic 
forms. Thus, by a douljle immortahty, the one the de- 
hberate award of history, and the other the prodigal gift 
of fiction, he claims the study of mankind. 

It would be interesting to trace the youth and educa- 
tion of this colossal individuality ; but his younger days, 
like the beginnings of nations and races, are veiled in 
darkness. Eginhard, his secretary and friend, who wrote his 
hfe and the annals of his age, confesses ignorance of his 
early years. The name of Charlemagne is mentioned but 
twice before he assumed the reins of government, once at 
the reception given by his father to Pope Stephen II., and 
once as a witness in the Aquitanian campaigns. By these 
incidents, it is rendered certam that he was early ac- 
customed to the duties of the palace and to the martial 
exercises of the Franks. At the same time, the long in- 
timacy of Pepin with the great prelates of the day, who 
were many of them men of learning, makes it probable 
that he acquired from them whatever culture they could 
impart. Nor can we doubt that his mother Bertrada, or 
Bertha, a woman of energetic character and strong affec- 
tions, watched over the development of his moral and re- 
ligious natm-e, exposed to so many dangers both in the 
army and the court. 

In ascending his throne, Karl found the cardinal points 
of his foreign and domestic policy laid down for him hy 
the three great men, his ancestors, whose large capacities 
and splendid achievements had slowly built up the power 
of their house. Those points were the maiatenance of that 
Germanic constitution of society which had rendered the 
advances of the Austrasians into Gaul almost a second 
Germanic invasion ; to anticipate, instead of awaiting, the 
inroads of smTounding barbarism, so as to extuiguish it on 

14 



106 THE COURT OF FRANCE. 

its own hearth ; and to cultivate and extend alhances with 
all peacefully disposed nations, and particularly with the 
great spu'itual potentate who controlled the destinies of 
the Church. Charlemagne's first civic act was to preside 
at the Council of Rouen, which renewed the canons against 
unworthy pi-iests; and in his first capitular he entitled him- 
self " King l)y the grace of God, a devout defender of the 
Holy Church, and ally in all things (adjutor) of the apos- 
tolic see." War, hoAvever, almost immediately diverted him 
from civic labors, showing that he was an Austrasian as 
well as a churchman, determined to maintain the ambitious 
projects of his fathers. Scarcely had the council closed, 
when he was compelled to summon a mall (or assembly) 
of warriors to consider the state of Aquitam, agitated by 
new troubles. 

This illustrious monarch, the restorer of order and obedi- 
ence in a state of society when only the most commanding 
talents and heroic steadfastness of purpose could have 
availed him in a struggle against anarchy and ignorance 
in their worst forms, was the grandson of Charles-Martel, 
king of the Franks, and lived 742-814, master of an em- 
pire which embraced all France, a part of Spain, more than 
half of Italy, and nearly all Gennany. To feel his greatr 
ness adequately it must be remembered that all the an- 
cient landmarks of social order had been overthrown with 
the colossal Roman power, and that the whole civilized 
world was covered with its ruins and infested with its 
crimes. The ancient seat of empire was divided among a 
score of petty tyrants ; the Saracens had overrun Spain 
and threatened the farther West ; the northern kingdoms 
were only known as the cradle of adventurous armies, 
whose leaders in after-years organized the feudal govern- 
ments of Europe ; Russia did not even exist ; and England 
was just emerging from the confusion of the Heptarchy. 
Some two centuries before, 507-511, Clovis had founded 
the Franliish monarchy and estabhshed himself at Paris, 



THE EMPEROR CHARLEMAGNE. 107 

but bis power was tbat of an absolute military cbief, and 
he was succeeded by a line of pbantom-kiugs, wbose action 
is scarcely distiuguisbable from tbat of the barbarous fer- 
mentation proceeding around tbera. At length, Pepin-He- 
ristal and his son Charles-Martel, slowly paved the way for 
a new authority, the former by familiarizing men's minds 
with justice and goodness in the sovereign, and the latter 
by his heroic resistance of the Saracens, and the j^romise 
of an irresistible power in the government. The successes 
of Charlemagne were the natural issue of these circmn- 
stances under the command of his ambition and vast 
genius, favored by the compliance of the popes ; who were 
willing to encourage a Christian protectorate in the West 
as a counterpoise to the eastern empire of Irene, and the 
dreaded power of Haroun-al-Raschid. A catalogue of the 
principal events and dates is all that we can give in 
the space to which we are Umited. In 768 Charles suc- 
ceeded to the government conjointly with his brother 
Carloman ; and on the death of the latter in 771, be- 
came sole master of France by wisely refusing to divide 
the authority with his nephews. In 770 he subdued the 
revolt of Aquitain. In 772 he max'ched against the still 
idolatrous Saxons, and commenced a conflict which he 
maintained for upward of thirty years. In 773, he crossed 
the Alps, and was shortly crowned King of Lonibardy, and 
acknowledged suzerain of Italy by the Pope, with the right 
of confinning the papal elections. In 778 he carried his 
arms into Sj^ain, and pursued his victorious career as far 
as the Ebro, but was surprised on his return in the pass 
of Roncesvalles, where many of his knights perished, and 
among the rest Orlando or Roland, his nephew, the hero 
of Ariosto. In 780 Louis-le-Debonnaire, his yoimgest son, 
was crowned by the pope King of Aquitain, and Pepin, 
his second son. King of Lombardy, both at Rome. Be- 
tween 780 and 782 he visited a terrible retribution upon 
the Saxons, and compelled their chief to accept Christian 



108 THE COURT OF FRANCE. 

baptism. Toward 790 we find him establishing seminaries 
of learning, and doing all in his power to elevate the 
character of the clergy, the most of whom had hitherto 
known httle but the Lord's prayer ; besides engaging in 
projects for the acceleration of commerce, the general im- 
provement of the people, and the promotion of science. 
Before the end of the century he had mvaded Pannonia, 
and extended his dominions in this direction to the moun- 
tains of Bohemia and the Raab. In 800 he was crowned 
at Rome emperor of the West; and in 803 was negotiating 
a union with Irene in order to consolidate the eastern and 
western empires, Avhen the empress was dethroned and ex- 
iled by Nicephorus. From this period to his death, which 
took place at Aix-la-Chapelle, in the seventy-first year of 
his age, and the forty-seventh of his reign, he was en- 
gaged in fortifying the coasts of France against the North- 
men, and various matters relating to the security and the 
prosperity of the empire, including the settlement of the 
succession. In person and manners Charlemagne was 
the perfection of simplicity, modesty, frugality, and in a 
word, of true greatness ; he had the reputation of a good 
lather, a tender husband, and a generous friend. He was 
indefatigable in all the duties of government, and whether 
in the camp or the court, had fixed hours for study, in 
which he took care to engage his courtiers by forming 
them mto an academy. " For shame ! " he exclaimed, to 
one who came before hun attired more elegantly than the 
occasion demanded, " dress yourself like a man ; and if you 
would be distinguished, let it be by your merits, not by 
your gamients." His nearest friend and companion was 
the illustrious Alcuui, and his fame was so widely spread 
that the only man, perhaps, of kindred genius in that age, 
the great caliph, Haroun-al-Raschid, coiirted his good-will, 
and comphmented him by an embassage bearing presents. 
Before his death he confirmed the succession in the per- 
son of liis son Louis, by an august ceremony. Placing the 



THE EMPEROR CHARLEMAGNE. 109 

imperial crown upon the altar, he ordered Louis to take it 
with his own hands, that he might vmderstaud he wore it 
in his o^wn right, under no authority but that of God. 
Perhaps we cannot conclude better by way of further illus- 
trating the character of Charlemagne than with his words 
of advice to this prince : " Love your people as yom- chil- 
dren," said he ; " choose your magistrates and governors 
from those whose belief in God wiU preserve them from 
corruption ; and see that your own life be blameless." 

Charlemagne was born in the palace of the Frankish 
kings in Aix-la-Chapelle in 742, and died there in 814. He 
was entombed in the mausoleum, Chapelle, which he had 
erected for the jjurpose as his burial-place. He caused it 
to be erected in the form of the Church of the Holy Se- 
pulchre at Jerusalem. It was consecrated by Pope Leo 
HI. with great splendor. Three hundred and sixty-three 
archbishops and bishops were present. The tomb in which 
once reposed the mortal remains of this monarch, is stQl to 
be seen, covered with a large slab of marjjle, under the 
centre of the dome, which we visited a few summers ago. 
After his death his body was placed in the mausoleum, on 
his throne, as if alive, clothed m imperial robes, holding 
the sceptre in his hand, with the crown upon his head 
and his sword by his side, while the pilgrim's pouch which 
he wore when living was attached to his girdle. One 
hundred and eighty-three years after his death, the tomb 
was opened, and all these imperial paraphernaUa were 
found upon the monarch well preserved. The marble 
chair-throne is still to be seen, but the cro-\yu and robes 
may be seen at Vienna. The skull of Charlemagne is still 
preserved in a silver case. The rest of the bones were 
discovered carefully preserved in a chest, and examined in 
1847. The foUowing notice appeared in a foreign paper, 
under the head of " The Bones of Charlemagne : " — 

" An inspection of the bones of Charlemagne took place 
at Aix-la-Chapelle the other day. The remains were found 



110 THE COURT OF FRANCE. 

in excellent preservation. Careful photographs were taken 
of the wrappers m which the remains of Charlemagne had 
rested for so many centuries ; they were of a beautiful 
silken tissue. The larger ■ wrapper, rich in color and design, 
was recognized as one of those draj)s de lit which were fre- 
quently mentioned by the Provencal troubadom's, as well as 
by the contemporary German JVIinnesingers, as Pallia tram- 
marina, P. Saracenica. It is, no doubt, a product of in- 
dustry of the Sicilian Saracens from the twelfth century. 
The second smaller wi'ai)per, of a beautifully preserved 
purple color, has been traced to Byzantine industry ; the 
Greek inscriptions woven into the silk texture make it 
probable that the stuff was manufactured in the iin23erial 
gynniasium at Byzantium, in the tenth century." 

It is rare that the posterity of such a man can be ac- 
curately traced down through successive generations for 
more than a thousand years. In a volume now lying be- 
fore us that lineage is traced dowTi in a direct hne from 
Charlemagne to names and families which have long been 
and are now ornaments to the community in which they 
live and act. The first of his descendants who acted a 
conspicuous part on this side the water, was President 
Chauncy, second president of Harvard College. From him 
were descended aU the Chaunceys in this country, of whom 
many were eminent; of this line was Commodore Chauncey 
of the United States Navy. Charles and Elihu Chauncey, 
of Philadelphia, WiUiam Chauncey, Esq., of New York, and 
others of that name are in the same line. So also the 
Goodrich family. Samuel G. Goodrich, or Peter Parley, Pro- 
fessor Chauncey A. Goodrich, late of Yale College, were the 
thirty-fourth lineal descendants from Charlemagne, renowned 
ancestor, whose blood has flowed down through so many 
generations. Many other names and families in this coun- 
try hold a similar relationshij) to this. 




_.ijl ~1j' ^'1 



¥ C r O [FB D A „ 



THE COURT OF ENGLAND. 



A LONG line of Kings and Queens have, in royal succes- 
sion, occupied the throne and worn the crown of England. 
These Royal Sovereigns and their successive governments 
and deeds fill many chapters and volumes in the historic 
annals of that country. Their name and fame and the 
achievements of their several reigns have been duly re- 
corded and are widely known. In presenting the portraits 
and historic sketches of various personages of this court, 
belonging to the past or the present in English annals, 
Her Majesty, who now fills the throne with so much wis- 
dom, dignity, and satisfaction to all the millions of her 
realm, obviously claims the first place. 



HER MAJESTY, QUEEN VICTORIA. 

When George HI., King of England, died, his eldest son, 
who had received his father's name, ascended the throne 
with the title of George IV. He had one daughter, an 
only child, Charlotte, who was married to Leopold, the 
present King of the Belgians. She, as the heir of George 
IV., would, upon his death, have worn the regal crown, but 
in less than a year from the time of her marriage, she 
and her infant child were consigned to the grave together. 
All England was clothed in mourning at the untimely 
death of this beloved Princess. George IV. reigned but 
a few years, and died, leaving no heir. 

The crown, consequently, descended upon the brow of 



112 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. 

the next son of George III., William, the frank, honest- 
hearted sailor, whose education had been received, and 
whose manners had been formed, in the society of the 
officers of the navy. He sat upon the throne but a few 
years, and also died childless. The crown would then have 
passed, by legitimate descent, to the next brother, Edward. 
But he had died several years before the decease of his 
brother William, leaving a little daughter, but eight months 
old at the tune, Alexandrina Victoria, who, as her father's 
heir, inherited his regal rights. 

The lineage of this little aspirant to the most exalted 
political station in the world is traceable in a direct Ime, 
from the Conqueror, as follows: She was niece of the king 
immediately preceding, William IV., who was brother of 
George IV., who was son of George m., who was grand- 
son of George II., who was son of George I., who was 
cousin of Anne, who was sister-in-law of William III., who 
was son-in-law of James II., who was bom of Charles II., 
who was son of James I., who was the cousm of Elizabeth, 
who was the sister of Mary, who was the sister of Edward 
VI., who was the son of Henry VIH., who was the son 
of Henry VII., who was cousin of Richard HI., who was 
the imcle of Edward V., who was the son of Edward IV., 
who was the cousm of Henry VI., who was the son of 
Henry V., who was the son of Henry IV., who was the 
cousin of Richard II., who was the grandson of Edward HI., 
who was the son of Edward II., who was the son of Ed- 
ward I., who was the son of Henry HI., who was the son 
of John, who was the brother of Richard I., who was the 
son of Henry II., who was the cousin of Stephen, who was 
the cousin of Henry I., who was the brother of WilUam 
Rufus, who was the son of WiUiam the Conqueror. 

Edward, the Duke of Kent, was a very sincere, honest^ 
hearted, worthy man. For many years, his income was 
quite limited, far below that of multitudes of the young 
nobility with whom he associated ; and he found it very 



HER MAJESTY, QUEEN VICTORIA. US 

difficult to sustain the style of living befitting the rank of 
a prince of the Ijlood royal. Though naturally of an aus- 
tere disposition, and in consequence of opposing political 
views, Ijeing not on very friendly terms with the other 
members of the royal family, he was still a man of irre- 
proachable morals, an aflectionate husband and father, and 
much interested m offices of charity and ))enevolence. 

The mother of Victoria was Victoria Maria Louisa, daugh- 
ter of the Duke of Saxe-Coburg. At sixteen years of age 
she was married to the Prince of Leiningen, a violent, irri- 
table, sour man, forty-four years old, without any attractive 
traits, either of person or mind. This young Princess, thus 
sacrificed upon the altar of pohtical ambition, passed sev- 
eral years of unspeakable wretchedness. Her sensual and 
heartless husband was soon Aveary of his youthful bride, 
and abandoned her to the cutting griefs of disappoiutment 
and neglect. She was a lady of much gentleness of man- 
ners, sweetness of disposition, strength of principle, and had 
a highly cultivated mind, and was beloved by all who knew 
her, except by her soulless huslsand, who was, perhaps, in- 
capable of loving anybody. When she was about thirty 
years of age, her husband died, and she was released from 
the chains which she had worn with most exemplary 
meekness. 

About two years after the death of her husband, she 
was married to Edward, Duke of Kent; on the twenty- 
fourth of May, 1819, Victoria was born, and in just eight 
months from that time, and but twenty months after his 
marriage, the Duke of Kent died. The eyes not only of 
aU England, but also of aU Europe, were directed to this 
infant cliild, upon whose brow was soon to be placed the 
crown of the most powerful empire earth has ever seen. 
In her earliest years, unwearied exertions were made to 
strengthen her constitution, and to give her an active and 
vigorous frame. She was encouraged to ramble in the 
fields, to play upon the sea-shore, to engage m athletic 

15 



114 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. 

exercises in open air ; and she soon became the most 
prominent actor in all the feats of fun and frohc. Under 
this culture, the energies of her mind, as "well as her body, 
were I'apidly expanded, and she soon developed a character 
of much quickness and benevolence of feeling. Her mother 
was her constant companion, and under her judicious train- 
ing she became an artless and lovely child. An English 
gentleman who was familiar with her childhood and youth, 
says,— 

"When I first saw the pale and pretty daughter of the 
Duke of Kent, she was fatherless. Her fair, light fonii 
was sporthig, in all the redolence of youth and health, on 
the noble sands of old Ramsgate. It was a summer day, 
not so warm as to induce languor, but yet warm enough 
to render the favoring breezes from the laiighing tides, as 
they bx'oke gently upon the sands, agreeable and refresh- 
uig. Her dress was simple : a plain straw bonnet, with a 
white ribbon round the crown, a colored muslin frock, 
looking gay and cheerful, and as pretty a pair of shoes on 
as pretty a pair of feet as I ever remember to have seen 
from China to Kamtchatka. Her mother was her com- 
panion, and a venerable man, whose name is graven on 
every human heart that loves its species, and whose midy- 
ing fame is recorded in that eternal book where the ac- 
tions of men are written with the pen of Truth, walked 
by her parent's side, and doubtless gave those counsels, 
and offered that advice, which none were more able to 
offer than himself — for it was William Wilberforce. 

" Mr. Willserforce looked, on that day, all benevolence. 
And when did he look othenvise ? Never, but when the 
wrongs of humanity made his fine heart bleed, and caused 
the flush of honest indignation to mantle his pale forehead. 
His kindly eye followed, with parental interest, every foot- 
step of the young creature, as she advanced to, and then 
retreated from the coming tide, and it was evident that 
his mind and his heart were full of the future, whilst they 



HER MAJESTY, QUEEN VICTORIA. 115 

were interested iu the present. ' There is, probably, the 
future monarch of an empire, on whose dominions the 
great orb of day never sets,' was a thought which was 
evidently depicted on his face, as he pointed to the little 
daring qneen, who was much amused at getting her shoes 
wet in a breaker, which had advanced farther and with 
more rapidity than she expected. The Duchess of Kent 
waved her hand, and Victoria, obedient to the signal, did 
not again risk the dangers arising from damp feet. 

" The scene was interesting. The old veteran in the 
cause of humanity and truth placed l:)etween his hands 
the little fingers of the blooming girl of five years of age, 
and something was then said, which I would have given a 
great deal to have heard, which caused the blue eyes of 
our now beloved Queen to stare most fixedly at her ven- 
erable instructor, while her devoted mother looked alter- 
nately at both, evidently interested and affected by the 
contrast. Thus the little party I have described advanced 
to the edge of the tide, and the emancipator of the negro 
and black popiilation of the world condescended to the 
trifles of watching the encroachments of each new breaker, 
and the tact of a Newfoundland dog, who exhibited his 
skill in ]jriniiini>; safe to shore some sticks which Avere 
thrown at great distances into the sea, that he might swim 
after them. 

" It was in this way that an hour was spent. The 
Duchess was earnest in her manner during a great portion 
of that hour, and seemed much delighted when Mr. Wil- 
berforce fixed the attention of her darling daughter by 
some sentences he pronounced in her hearing. I am quite 
satisfied they related to slavery. His attitude, his move- 
ments, his solemnity, and the fixed eye and deeply mourn- 
ful face of his charming young pupil convinced me of that. 
The Duchess and her daughter returned to their mod- 
est dwelhng, and Mr. Wilberforce, joined by some friend, 
walked quietly on the pier." 



116 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. 

As Victoria advaueed iii years, and her healtli l^ecame 
more firm, she pressed more vigorously on in her intel- 
lectual pursuits ; but still her judicious friends were ever 
watchful that her mind should not be overtasked, nor her 
physical energies impaired, by too close confinement to the 
study of books. The knowledge that is printed makes but 
a small share of that which every hiunan mind attains. 
She carefully read, with her instructors, all those treatises 
which have been written with regard to the education of 
a princess. From conversation and fi-om books, she was 
made fiimUiar with the hves of eminent kings and queens, 
and perused the biographies of other persons, both male 
and female, who have been distinguished for the good in- 
fluences they have exerted in the world. It was a special 
object of attention with those who had charge of her edu- 
cation, that she shoidd become acquainted with the history 
of the distinguished statesmen, scholars, and divines who 
have been the pride and the ornament of England, and 
that she should be familiar with the literature of the Eng- 
lish language, the noisiest literature in the world. How 
wretchedly do they err, who, in the fashionable education 
of the present day, sacrifice the noblest of intellectual at- 
tainments, and consign all the ennobling treasures of their 
own mother-tongue to neglect, merely that they may be 
aide to utter a few commonplace phrases in a foreign 
tongue ! The mother of Victoria, herself an intelligent and 
thoughtful woman, was very careful to direct the mind of 
her daughter from a love of show, of dress, of frivolity; — 
to give her intellectual tastes, and to train her up to a 
solid and substantial character. Victoria became enthusi- 
astically fond of music and drawing, and made great pro- 
ficiency in both of these arts. In music she excelled, and 
became quite distinguished as an accomplished vocalist ; 
accompanied by her mother on the piano, she frequently 
charmed the noljle circle surrounding her, by the richness 
and fubiess of her well-cultivated voice. In drawing also 



HER MAJESTY, QUEEN VICTORIA. 117 

she made great proficiency. Slie was extremely fond of 
painting and engraving. Her taste, refined by cultm-e, 
enabled her to select the noblest specunens of art ; and 
she became herseh' so skilful in the use of the pencil, that 
she could, with great precision and beauty, sketch from 
nature ; and her j^ortfolio was filled with attractive speci- 
mens, sketched by her own hand, of landscape scenery, 
and other jncturesque objects which had attracted her eye. 
This early taste for jjictures has ever been to her a source 
of the purest enjoyment, refining and ennobhng the mmd, 
as it also gratifies the senses. 

She was instructed in the evidences of Christianity and 
in the principles of the Christian religion ; and it was con- 
stantly impressed upon her mind, that she was to be the 
queen of professedly a Christian nation, and that her pri- 
vate conduct and public administration must be in accord- 
ance with the directions of Holy Writ. Victoria has often 
given evidence, in later years, of the influence these in- 
structions have retained over her mind and heart, in cir- 
cumstances of severe temptation. The following anecdote 
illustrates the devout regard she entertains for the sacred- 
ness of the Christian Saljbath : Soon after she ascended the 
throne, at a late hour on one Saturday night, a nobleman 
occupying an important part in the government arrived at 
Windsor with some state-papers. " I have brought," said 
he, " for your Majesty's inspection, some documents of 
great importance ; but, as I shall be obliged to trouble you 
to examine them in detail, I will not encroach on the time 
of your Majesty to-night, but will request your attention 
to-morrow morning." '' To-morrow morning ! " repeated the 
queen. " To-morrow is Sunday, my lord." " True, yoiu' 
Majesty; but business of the state will not admit of delay." 
"I am aware of that," replied the Queen. "As, of course, 
your lordship coidd not have arrived earlier at the palace 
to-night, I will, if those papers are of such pressmg im- 
portance, attend to their contents after church to-morrow 



118 THE COUET OF ENGLAND. 

morning." On the morning, the Queen and her court went 
to church 5 and much to the sm-prise of the noble lord, the 
subject of the discourse was on the sacredness of the 
Christian Sabbath. "How did your lordship like the ser- 
mon ? " asked the Queen. " Very much indeed, your Maj- 
esty," replied the nobleman. " Well, then," retorted her 
Majesty, " I will not conceal from you, that last night I 
sent the clergyman the text from which he j^i'cached. I 
hope we shall all be improved by the sermon." Not an- 
other word was said about the state-papers duiing the 
day ; but at night, when Victoria was about to withdraw, 
she said, " To-morrow morning, my lord, at any hour you 
please, as early as seven if you like, we will look mto the 
papers." " I cannot think," was the reply, " of intruding 
ujjon your Majesty at so early an hour. Nine o'clock will 
be quite soon enough." " No, no, my lord ; as the papers 
are of importance, I wish them to be attended to very 
early. However, if you wish it to be nine, be it so." At 
nine o'clock, the next morning, the Queen was seated, 
ready to receive the nobleman and his papers. 

We have before stated that the Duke of Kent had but 
a limited income. He found it very difficult to maintain 
the style of livmg corresponding with his rank in life. He 
died much involved in debt, which he was totally unable 
to pay. Victoria revered the memory of her father, and 
often, during her minority, referred to these debts, and 
longed for the time to come when she should be able to 
repay those friends who had aided her father in his time 
of need. As soon as she ascended the throne, she sent to 
Earl Fitzwilliam and Lord Dundas, who had assisted her 
father, the full amount of the sums due, accompanied with 
a valuable piece of j^late, to each, as a testimonial of her 
gratitude. This noble decision of character, and deUcate 
sense of justice, must command admiration. 

When Victoria was fifteen years of age, there was a lad 
of the same age, a relative of the family, on the mother's 



HER MAJESTY, QUEEN VICTORIA. . HQ 

side, who often associated witli her, in her studies and her 
sports. In those early years a strong attachment grew Tip 
between them ; and it conld not be concealed that Victoria 
looked upon Prince Albert with more than ordinary aflec- 
tion. When she had attained her eighteenth- year, the 
year of her legal majority, her birthday was celebrated 
with the utmost splendor. The bells rang merry peals of 
joy ; the nobility of the empire gathered around the 
princess, with their congratulations, and St. James's palace 
was decked with splendor, such as was never seen before. 
Prince Albert was also there, with throbbing heart, among 
the first to congratulate Victoria upon the happy event. 

Fom' weeks had not passed away from these festivities, 
when her uncle, the reigning monarch, William IV., was 
seized with sudden illness and died, on the twentieth of 
June, 18.37. At five o'clock in the morning, the Arch- 
bishhop of Canterbury, with others of the nobility, arrived 
at the palace at Kensington, to communicate to Victoria 
the tidings of her uncle's death, and that she was Queen 
of England. That day she assembled her first Privy Coun- 
cil. Upwards of one hundred of the highest nobihty of the 
realm were present. It was an imposing and affecting 
scene. The pen and the pencil have in vain endeavored 
to do it justice. In the midst of the scarred veterans of war, 
gray-haired statesmen, judges of the Court, dignitaries of 
the Church, stood this youthful maiden, with her fragile 
and fairy fonn, pale and pensive, and yet graceful and 
queenly, in her childlike loveliness. And when the herald 
announced, " We jjubhsh and proclaim that the high and 
mighty Princess, Alexandriua Victoria, is the only lawfid 
and rightful Hege lady, and by the grace of God, Queen 
of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, De- 
fender of the Faith," the timid and lovely maiden, over- 
whelmed by the scene, thrcAV her arms around her moth- 
er's neck, and wept with uncontrollable emotion. And 
when her uncle, the Duke of Sussex, her father's younger 



12(J THE COURT OF ENGLAND. 

brother, was about to kneel at her feet to kiss her royal 
hand, as he took the oath of allegiance, she gracefully 
placed an affectionate kiss upon his cheek, and with tears 
streaming from her eyes, exclaimed, " Do not kneel, my 
uncle, for I am still Victoria, your niece." 

In a few days she made her first appearance, as Queen, 
before the Parliament of Great Britain, the most august 
assemblage in the world. Statesmen, nobles, ambassadors 
from foreign courts, thronged the chamber. Victoria en- 
tered, not with tall, commanding figure, but as a gentle, 
sylph-like, foiry child, to win all hearts to tenderness and 
love. She ascends the throne, and every eye is riveted 
upon the youthful Queen. With a clear though tremulous 
voice, she reads her first address to the statesmen who 
suiroiuid her, so distinctly as to make herself heard to the 
very farthest part of the House of Lords. 

Soon came the hour of coronation. The eyes of Eng- 
land and the thouo-hts of the civilized world were directed 
to the scene. Westminster Abbey was decked with gor- 
geous attractions, such as never that venerable pile had 
seen displayed before. The rank and beauty of all the 
courts of Europe, glittering in diamonds and gems of every 
hue, were there assembled. The maiden Queen, with royal 
robe and golden diadem, kneeled at the altar, and fer- 
vently implored the Divine guidance. And when those 
aisles and fretted arches resounded with the peal of the 
organ, as it gave utterance to the sublime anthem, " Come, 
Holy Ghost, our soiils inspire," there were few among the 
thousands who crowded the Abbey, who were not afiected 
even to tears. 

The marriage with Albert soon followed. The nation 
approved of the match ; and two youthful hearts, drawn 
together amidst the splendors of a palace by mutual love, 
were united in the most sacred and delightful of ties. Such 
espousals seldom occur within the frigid regions of a court. 
This union has been highly promotive of the happiness of 



HER MAJESTY, QUEEN VICTORIA. 121 

both of the ilhistrious pair. They were universally re- 
spected and beloved, and dwelt together in the spirit of 
harmony and aftection, which is rarely experienced hy 
those whose fortune it is to dwell in the cold and 
cheerless regions of elevated rank and power. But few 
of the cares of government rest upon Victoria. The able 
counsellors who surround her guide the afFau's of state in 
her name. She has little to do, except to attend to the 
etiquette of the Court, to present herself as the conspicii- 
ous pageant on a gala-day, and to give her signature to 
those acts of parliament which are supported by those 
friends in whom she reposes confidence. The romance of 
the coronation, and of the bridal scene, has long ago passed 
away. The lovely maiden Queen, who arrested all eyes, 
and won all hearts, is now an afflicted widow, an amiable 
woman, a careworn mother. With matronly dignity she 
cherishes the children who have clustered around her. 
With exemplaiy fidelity, she discharges her duties as 
Queen, as sovereign, as mother ; and she is worthy of the 
respectful affection she receives from her subjects ; for there 
are few who have ever been seated upon a throne, who 
ai'e more meritorious in character than Queen Victoria. 
The accidents of birth have placed her where she is. 
Strong temptations surround her. Everything which this 
earth can furnish, of pomp and pageantry, is arrayed to 
dazzle her eye. And it is certainly greatly to her credit, 
that, in the midst of such scenes, she could have main- 
tained her integrity as she has done. 

Of Prince Albert, long the honored and beloved consort 
of the Queen, there is but one opmion. His amiable pri- 
vate character, and domestic traits, ministered unspeakaljly 
to the happiness of the Queen, and contributed to that 
most happy and illustrious example of domestic purity and 
peace which has won for the Royal Family of England 
the respect of the civihzed world. His exquisite tact and 
discretion in reference to the exciting pohtical questions 

16 



122 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. 

and solicitations by which he has been surrounded, are re- 
markable. Not a word or look of his ever compromised 
the mdependence and impartiality of the throne. The 
bitterest partisanship found nothing to condemn in the 
course of the Prince. Yet he was not an idle or in- 
difiereut spectator of the active life around him. The 
charitable, the commercial, and the social movements and 
interests of the nation always strongly attracted him, and 
ever found m him a wise and efficient patron. The great 
characteristic event of our era, the International Exhibition 
at the Crystal Palace, in 1851, was distinctly traceable to 
his original suggestion, as well as its final realization to 
his perseverance and energy of character. Happy in his 
family, liberal in views, and unostentatiously benevolent in 
his feelings, his influence has been signally favorable to 
morality and religion. 

Nine children have been added to the happy circle of 
the Royal Family, whose unbroken good health, admhable 
order, and amiable dispositions have contributed to render 
the Eoyal Family one of England's brightest treasm-es, and 
most useful and honorable traits among the nations. 




IS OS®¥AL CflD(E[}OWESS [p[aQR!(DE ^\[LKE[^T„ 



HIS KOYAL HIGHNESS, PRINCE ALBERT. 



Albert Francis Augustus Charles Emmanuel, Prince of 
Saxe-Coburg-Gotha, and consort of Queen Victoria, was 
born August 26, 1819, and was the second son of the 
Duke Ernest I., who died m 1844. Pruice Albert was 
educated along with his elder brother. Prince Ernest, the 
present Duke-regnant of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha, under the Con- 
sistorial Councillor Florschiitz, and subsequently at the Uni- 
versity of Bonn. His studies are described as including, 
beside the languages and history, the physical and natural 
sciences; and also music and painting, in both of which 
arts he attained considerable proficiency. Prince Albert 
was mai'ried to Qvaeen Victoria on the tenth of February, 
1840, at St. James's chaj^el, having a few days before been 
natm-ahzed by act of parliament. By an act which re- 
ceived the royal assent August 4, 1840, it was provided 
that, in case of the demise of her Majesty before her next 
lineal descendant shall have attained the age of eighteen, 
the Prince is to be Regent until such age is reached. The 
Prince was not unmindful of the grave responsibilities 
which his position cast uj^on him, or of those which might 
possibly accrue. Almost immediately after his settlement 
in this country he read a course of English constitutional 
history and law with one of our highest authorities, Mr. 
Selwyn; and whilst he always most judiciously held himself 
aloof from all political parties, he did at different times 
show an intimate acquaintance with the general bearing 
of great public movements, such as could only result from 
a careful study of the principles of our social economy, a 



124 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. 

clear knowledge of English institutions, and a consider- 
ate observance of the progress of events. In many of 
those public questions which are distinct from party poli- 
tics, and in nearly all those which bear on the improve- 
ment of the physical condition of the poorer classes, on 
the progress of the mechanical and fine arts, and in vari- 
ous benevolent projects, the Prince took a very active 
part ; and his sj^eeches on public occasions always indi- 
cated an intelligent appreciation of the objects sought to 
be accomplished. As the head of the Fine Arts Commis- 
sion the Prince did much toward setting in motion that 
effort to reach the higher purposes of art which has char- 
acterized the painting and sculpture of the last twelve or 
fourteen years; and he evinced, by his zealous patron- 
age of schools of design, an equal desire to aid in raising 
the artistic character of our manufactures. But it was as 
the chairman of the council of the Great Exhibition of 1851 
that his activity and knowledge found its widest scojje and 
fidlest development; and it seemed to be admitted by all 
who were ultimately coimected with the origin and prog- 
ress of that great undertaking, that it owed very much of 
its high position and ultimate success to the taste, judg- 
ment, and tact of Prince Albert. 

The Prince was a field-marshal in the English army, and 
a colonel of the Grenadier Guards, and it was said he took 
much interest in the state of the anny and the condition 
of the soldier ; but his tastes and pursuits were for the 
most part entirely of a pacific character. The fine and 
mechanical arts did not, however, engross liis attention. 
His name apj^eared in the lists at the Smithfield Club, and 
other leading agricultural exhibitions, as a competitor, and 
generally as a successful competitor, for the prizes annually 
adjudicated for superior breeds of cattle, etc. He had 
indeed given a good deal of time to agricultural pursuits, 
and his " model farms " at Windsor are said liy practical 
farmers to be really entitled to their designation. 



HIS EOYAL HIGHNESS, PRINCE ALBERT. 125 

Beside those above mentioned, the Prince held several 
offices under the Crown. He was elected in 1842, after a 
sharp contest, Chancellor of the University of Cambridge ; 
and he was President of the Society of Arts, Grand Master 
of the Free-Masons, and patron or president of various 
benevolent and other institutions. 

DEATH OF PRINCE ALBERT. 

Twenty-one years elapsed, after Queen Victoria gave her 
hand in marriage to Prince Albert, until the time of his 
death. It was an auspicious event, and reality has more 
than surpassed all prognostics, however favorable. The 
royal marriage has been blessed with a numerous offspring. 
So far as it is permitted to the public to know the domestic 
lives of sovereigns, the people of these islands could set up 
no better model of the performance of the duties of a wife 
and mother than their Queen ; no more complete pattern 
of a devoted husband and father than her Consort. These 
are not mere words of course. We write in an age and 
in a country in which the highest position would not have 
availed to sci'een the most elevated delinquent. They are 
simply the records of a truth perfectly understood and 
recognized by the English people. 

It has been the misfortune of most royal personages 
that their education has been below the dignity of their 
position. Cut oft" by their rank from iutunate association 
with young persons of the same age, they have often had 
occasion bitterly to lament that the same fortune wdiich 
raised them above the nobility m station had sunk them 
below them in knowledge and acquirements. Thanks to 
the ciUtivated mind and sterling good sense of the Prince 
Consort, no such charge will be brought against the pres- 
ent generation of the Royal Family of England. Possessing 
talents of the first order, cidtivated and refined l^y diligent 
and successful study, the Prince has watched over the edu- 



126 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. 

cation of his children with an assiduity commensurate with 
the greatness of the trust, and destined, we duubt not, to 
bear fruit in the future stability of our reigning family 
and its firm hold on the affections of the people. Had 
Prince Albert done no more than this, had he limited his 
ambition to securing the happiness of his wife and chil- 
dren, this coimtry, considering who his wife and children 
are, would have owed him a debt which the rank he oc- 
cupied among us, and the material and social advantages 
attached to it, would have been quite adequate to repay. 
But there is much more which the Prince has done for us. 
It was a singular piece of fortune that the Queen should 
find m a young man of twenty years of age one whom a 
sudden and unlooked-for elevation could not elate, nor all 
the temptations of a splendid court and a luxurious capi- 
tal seduce ; who kept the faith he had pledged Avith sun- 
pie and unwavering fidelity, and in the heyday of youth 
ruled his passions and left no duty unperformed. But it is 
still more smgular that in this untried youth, the Queen 
should have found an adviser of the utmost sagacity, a 
statesman of the rarest ability and honesty of purpose. 
Perhaps all history cannot afford an mstance of the per- 
formance of high and irresponsible but strictly limited 
duties, Avith a dignity and singleness of intention compara- 
ble to that which has made illustrious the reign of Queen 
Victoria. 

Her Majesty found in her husband a wise and true 
counsellor, and rose far superior to the petty jealousy 
which might have prevented a mind of less elevated cast 
from availing itself of such invaluable services. The result 
has been a period of progress aud prosperity quite un- 
equalled even in what may fairly he called the happy and 
glorious history of England. The rancor of contending 
parties has never assailed the Crown, because all have felt 
ahke that they were treated with the most loyal impar- 
tiality. Any one who would thoroughly appreciate the 



HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS, PRINCE ALBERT. 127 

degree of merit which this impartiahty imphes should 
study the history of our colonies under their constitutional 
government, and observe how impossible the ablest gover- 
nors have found it to maintain that impartiality between 
rival leaders which, during the reign of the Queen, has 
never been forgotten for a moment. If faction almost died 
away in the land, if the nation became united as it never 
was united before, it is because every shade of opinion has 
had full and fair play, and the powers of government have 
not been perverted to oppress one side or undidy to ele- 
vate the other. In the Prince, notwithstandmg his German 
education, the country has had as true an Englishman as 
the most patriotic native of these islands. He has had the 
sagacity to see and feel that the interests of his family and 
his dynasty had claims upon him superior to any other, 
and at no period has the foreign policy been less subject 
to the imputation of subservience to foreign interests and 
relations than during the last twenty years. 

We have hitherto spoken of the manner in which the 
Prince has acquitted himself of the duties which may be 
said to have been cast upon him in virtue of his position 
as husband to the Queen. We have yet to speak of an- 
other duty which he may be said to have assumed of his 
own accord. As a foreigner of cultivated taste and clear 
judgment, he saw defects which insular pride probably had 
prevented the people from discerning in themselves. He 
saw that the manuflictures, vdth all their cheapness and 
durability, were strangely wantmg in the graces of color 
and form, and that the whole life of the nation, pub- 
lic and private, had something of a sordid and material 
tint. The Prince set himself to correct these evils with 
mdefatigable diligence. He labored to create the Great 
Exhibition of 1851, and has been the priacipal patron of 
those public establishments which are giving a new impulse 
to the arts of design, and are probahly destmed to regen- 
erate the taste of the country, and bring our powers of 



128 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. 

decoration to a level with our astonishing fertility of crear 
tion. Even then there was rismg under his auspices, in a 
suburb of the metropolis, a building destined to receive 
the products of the industry of all nations, and to give, 
we doubt not, a fresh impulse to the creation of whatever 
may serve for the use and enjoyment of mankind. 

It is not too much to say that during the last day of 
his life the pubHc were stupefied by the calamity which 
befell the highly-gifted man, who was for so many years 
the consort of the sovereign. Nor will the intense feel- 
ings called forth by the event be confined to these 
islands. Wherever throughout the world the character 
and influence of the Prince Consort are understood, there 
will be regret and pity, astonishment and speculation, to 
the full as much as among ourselves. For her Majesty 
the deepest S3Tnpathy will be felt on every side. The life 
of the Queen and her husband for nearly twenty-two years 
was so calm and happy and domestic, that we had been 
accustomed to look uiion them as realizing that ideal of 
earthly haiipiness which, it is said, seldom falls to the lot 
of princes. Until the death of her mother no severe family 
loss had troubled the Queen. All her children had lived ; 
she had seen her eldest dauohter married to the heir of a 
great monarchy ; another daughter was about to form an 
alliance prompted by mutual affection. But in the loss of 
her devoted husband a dreadful blow has indeed fallen 
upon our sovereign. The world in general knew that in 
public aiFairs her Majesty consulted her husband, but it 
hardly appreciated how constant were the services, how 
luiwearied the attentions, which this position of the Prince 
Consort involved. For years he hardly ever stirred from 
the side of the Queen ; and, knowing how much the direc- 
tion of a large family, the management of a great court, 
and the administration of public affairs must tax her 
strength, he gave her his help with an energy, an acute- 
ness, a tenderness, and a solicitude of which there are few 



HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS, PRINCE ALBERT. 129 

examples. He has been cut off just when his mind was 
most vigorous, his experience verging on completeness, 
when his children are at the age when a lather's authority 
is more than ever necessary, and — by a singular fatality 
— at a moment when the country is threatened with a 
most terrible conflict. 

The Prince Consort was taken ill some twelve days be- 
fore his death. Symjjtoms of fever, accompanied by a gen- 
eral indisposition, made their appearance. For some days 
the complaint was not considered to be serious, but from 
the early part of the week the medical men in attendance 
and the persons about the court began to feel anxious. It 
became evident that, even if the disorder did not take a 
dangerous turn, a debilitating sickness would at least con- 
fine the Prince for some tune to the palace. It need not 
be said that no statement was made Avhich could unneces- 
sarily alarm her Majesty or the public. It was not till 
a late hour, when the fever had gained head and the 
patient was much weakened, that the first bulletin was 
issued, and even then it was said that the symptoms were 
not unflivorable. It is said that early m tlie progress of his 
illness the Prince expressed his belief that he should not 
recover. On the next day no material change took place in 
his condition, and the following morning the Queen took a 
drive, having at that time no suspicion of immediate dan- 
ger. When, however, her Majesty returned to the castle, 
the extremities of the patient were already cold, so sudden 
had been the fresh access of the disorder. The alarming 
bulletin of the day was then published. From that time the 
state of the Prince was one of the greatest danger. On the 
same evening it was thought probable that he would not 
survive the night, and the Prince of Wales, who had been 
telegraphed for to Camlnidge, arrived at the castle by 
special train about three o'clock on Saturday morning. All 
night the Prince continued very ill, but in the forenoon of 
Saturday a change for the better took place. Unhappily, 

17 



130 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. 

it was only the rally ■which so often precedes dissolution ; 
but it gave great hopes to the eminent physicians m at- 
tendance, and was communicated to the public as soon as 
possible. The ray of hope was foted soon to be quenched. 
About four o'clock in the afternoon, a relapse took place, 
and the Prince, who from the time of his severe seizure 
on Friday had been sustained by stimulants, began gradu- 
ally to sink. It was half-past four when the last bulletin 
was issued, announcing that the patient was in a critical 
state. From that time there was no hope. When the im- 
provement took place on Saturday, it was agreed by the 
medical men that if the patient could be carried over one 
more night his hfe would in all probaljility be saved. But 
the sudden failure of vital power which occurred in the 
afternoon frustrated these hopes. Congestion of the lungs, 
the result of complete exhaustion, set in, the Prince's 
breathing liecame continually shorter and feebler. Quietly, 
and without sufiering, he contmued slowly to smk, so 
slowly that the wrists were 2^1-^lseless long before the last 
moment had arrived, when at a few minutes before eleven 
he ceased to breathe, and all was over. The Queen, his 
Eoyal Highness the Prince of Wales, their Royal High- 
nesses the Princess Alice and the Prmcess Helena, .and their 
Serene Highnesses the Prince and Princess of Leiningen, 
were all present when his Royal Highness expired. He 
was sensible, and knew the Queen to the last. The 
Duke of Cambridge and the following gentlemen connected 
with the Court were present : General Bruce, Sir Charles 
Phipps, General Gray, General Bentinck, Lord Alfred Paget, 
Major Du Plat, General Seymour, Colonel Elphinstone, and 
the Dean of Windsor. An hour after and the solemn tones 
of the great bell of St. Paul's — a bell of evil omen — told 
all citizens how irrejjarable had been the loss of their be- 
loved Queen, how great the loss to the country. 




A il laj K IRi r, [P !f3 tl M C E a r W A 



THE PRINCE OF WALES, K. G. 



His Royal Highness Albert Edward Prince of Wales, 
Duke of Saxony, Prince of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha, Duke of 
Cornwall and Rothsay, Earl of Chester, Carrick, and Dub- 
lin, Baron Renfrew, and Lord of the Isles, K. G., and Heir- 
Apparent to the throne of England, was born at Bucking- 
ham Palace on the ninth of NovemJ^er, 1841. 

The heir-apparent derives his titles, partly by inheritance 
and partly )jy creation, from the circumstance of King Ed- 
ward the First having, in j^olitic concession to the Welsh 
chieftains, created his heir " Prince of Wales," a few days 
after his Ijirth at Carnarvon Castle. The young prince 
was subsequently invested wnth the Earldom of Chester, 
which has since been included in the patents of creation. 
The Scottish titles of the Prince are derived from Robert 
the Third, in whose reign they were vested in the heir- 
apparent to the crown of Scotland forever. On the tenth 
of September, 1849, her Majesty granted to her son and 
heir, Albert Edward Prince of Wales, and to his heirs, Kmgs 
of Great Britain and Ireland, forever, the dignity of the 
Earl of Dul)lin, of the United Kingdom, in memory of her 
Majesty's visit to that portion of her dominions. His Royal 
Highness takes his seat in the House of Peers as Duke of 
Cornwall. 

The rank and position of his Royal Highness are thus 
explained in "Dod," an efficient authority in aU matters 
of precedence : — 

"The Prince of Wales has been at all times regarded as 
the first subject in the realm, the nearest to the throne, 



132 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. 

the most dignified of the Peers of Parhament, and though 
not exercising any poUtical power beyond his vote as a 
legislator, yet regarded by all men as the most eminent 
personage in the state next after the sovereign ; the 
Prince of "Wales is the heir-apparent ; the heir-presumptive 
may be brother, uncle, nephew, niece, or even a more dis- 
tant relative of the sovereign ; but the prospect which an 
heir-presiunptive may possess of eventually succeeding to 
the throne gives him no place in the scale of precedency : 
the rank he holds is merely derived from consanguinity. 
But the station of the Prince of Wales is clearly and in- 
disputably that of the first and highest of her Majesty's 
subjects." 

It is obviously impossible, at the present time, to furnish 
anything wo^thy the name of a biography of the young 
Prince who occupies the Qxalted position above described. 
The materials which, in future days, will be at hand to 
enable a biographer to write a histoiy, or part history of 
his life, are not yet to be found. The deeds of his youth 
and the achievements of his manhood and maturity are yet 
to be enacted. At this time we can only congratulate the 
young Prince upon the sjilendid prospect, and the wide 
field for good which it is his fortune to inherit ; a field for 
which he has been most carefidly prepared by the wise 
training he has received under the unmediate care of his 
royal mother. If the inestimable example of good and vir- 
tuous actions in a parent is to have its accustomed influ- 
ence, and if the watchful culture of rehgion and the better 
qualities of our nature yield but their average good, we 
may look for a worthy career in that of the Prince of 
Wales. That he may have a long, a happy, and a peace- 
ful life, is the prayer of every English heart. 

As already stated, the education of the Prince of Wales 
has been conducted under the immediate care of her Maj- 
esty the Queen. In the languages, classics, natural philos- 
ophy, mathematics, jmisprudence, and other branches of 



THE PRINCE OF WALES, K. G. 133 

study, his Eoyal Highness has been assisted by jirivate 
tutors selected expressly on account of their qualifications 
and ability to convey instruction. It is understood that 
the Prince will continue his education by a course of 
study both at Caml)ridge and Oxford. 

On the ninth of November, 1858, the Prince of Wales, 
having on that day completed his seventeenth year, was 
apj)ointed Colonel in the army. The " Gazette " of the fol- 
lowing Friday contained the subjoined annoimcement : — 

" The Queen, taking into her royal consideration that his 
Eoyal Highness Albert Edward Prince of Wales, Knight of 
the Most Noble Order of the Garter, and, by virtue of the 
statutes of the said Order, a constituent member thereof, 
has not as yet assumed the stall assigned to the Prince of 
Wales in the Royal Chapel of St. George, at Windsor, and 
having, as sovereign of the said Order, the mherent right 
of dispensing with all statutes, ordinances, and regulations 
in regard to installation, her Majesty has been pleased, by 
letters-patent under her royal sign-manual and the Great 
Seal of the Order, bearing date this day, to give and grant 
unto his Royal Highness Albert Edward Prince of Wales, 
full power and authority to wear and use the star, and 
also to wear and use the collar and all other ornaments 
belonging to the said most noble Order, and to sit in the 
stall assigned to the Prince of Wales, in our Royal Chapel 
of St. George, at Windsor, and to exercise all rights and 
privileges belonging to a Knight Companion of the said 
most noble Order, in as full and ample manner as if his 
Royal Highness had been fonnally installed, any decree, 
rule, or usage, to the contrary notwithstanding." 

Having thus fixirly entered upon the duties of manhood, 
his Royal Highness determined upon pursuing his studies, 
for a time at least, at Rome. Accordingly after a brief 
visit to his illustrious sister at Berlin, the Princess Fred- 
erick William of Prussia, he proceeded on his journey to 
Italy. On his way thither he performed the first public 



134 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. 

act of lu8 life, by presenting oolors to the Hundredth, or 
Prince of Wales' Royal Canadian Regiment of Foot, then 
stationed at Shorncliffe, near Folkestone. His Royal High- 
ness took occasion to make the following appropriate 
speech to the assembled officers and men : — 

" Loixl Melville, Colonel de Rottenberg, and officers and 
soldiers of the Hundredth Regiment : It is most gratif)nng 
to me that, by the Queen's gracious permission, my first 
public act since I have had the honor of holding a com- 
mission in the British anny should be the presentation of 
colors to a regiment which is the sjiontaneous offering of 
the loyal and spirited Canadian people, and with which, at 
their desire, my name has been specially associated. The 
ceremonial on which we are now engaged possesses a pe- 
culiar significance and solemnity, because in confiding to 
you for the first tune this emblem of military fidelity and 
valor I not only recognize emphatically your enrolment 
into owY national force, but celebrate an act which pro- 
claims and strengthens the unity of the various parts of 
this vast empu'e under the sway of our common sovereign. 
Although, owing to my youth and inexperience, I can but 
very imperfectly give expression to the sentiments which 
this occasion is calculated to awaken with reference to 
yourselves and to the great and fiourishing province of 
Canada, you may rest assured that I shall ever watch the 
progress and achievements of your gallant corps with deep 
interest, and that I heartily wish you all honor and success 
in tlie prosecution of the noble career on which you have 
entered." 

The Prince ax'rived in the Eternal City in the latter part 
of January, 1859, and having spent some time in exploring 
ancient and modern Rome, proceeded quietly and unosten- 
tatiously to his studies. Before doing so, however, he paid 
a visit to the Pope. His appearance at the Vatican is 
worthy of note, inasmuch as a prince of the blood royal 
of England had not made a similar visit for some centu- 



THE PKINCE OF WALES, K. G. 135 

ries. Agreeably to the expressed wish of her Majesty, the 
recejition was conducted with httle ceremony. His Hohness 
rose on the entry of the Prince, and coming forward to 
the door of the apartment to meet him, conducted him in 
the most afflible manner jjossible to a seat, and entered 
into conversation with him in French. Colonel Bruce .was 
the only other person present at the interview, which was 
brief, and limited to complimentary expressions and subjects 
of local interest, but perfectly satisfixctory to all parties. 
On the Prince rising to take his leave, the Pope conducted 
him again to the door with the same warmth of manner 
which he had testified on receiving him. The stay of his 
Royal Highness in Rome being interrupted by the out- 
break of the war in Italy, he travelled to Gil)raltar, and 
from thence to Spain and Portugal. He returned to Eng- 
land on June 25, 1859. 

In the summer of 1860 the Prince of Wales made a visit 
to Canada and the United States. The grand welcome 
which he received in Canada and by the authorities in the 
United States, and by aU classes in the community, has 
seldom if ever been surpassed to a prince or public man 
not actually wearing a crown in any country. The history 
of the Prince's movements in this country, his various ex- 
cursions, the reception ceremonies, the celebrations, and 
great gatherings in honor of the Prince, are too recent 
and fresh in the pul)lic mind to need particular mention 
m these pages. A long life as the monarch and king of 
England is possible and j)robable to this high-born Prince. 




IL (G) 3E1D) IF^lQiMClS Itt 






LORD PALMERSTON. 



Few English statesmen of modem times have filled so 
high a station in the government of England for so long 
a period, or exerted so wide and commanding an influence 
in the affairs of Europe, as Lord Palmerston. A modern 
history of Europe could scarcely he written without em- 
bracing much that he has said and done. He still acts a 
prominent part in the public affairs of Europe and the 
world. It is not easy to comprise the record of such a 
man and such a character in a brief space. He is yet 
alive. The great drama of his life is not yet played out. 
The hand of death has not set the seal of unalterable fact 
vipon his being and doing, — the materials of such a life 
are yet incomplete and imperfect. An outline of such a 
historic life is always interestmg, tracing a brilliant career 
through its various scenes and changes. 

Henry John Temple, Viscount Palmerston, was born at 
Broadlands, near Romney, in Hampshire, on the twentieth 
of October, 1784. His flimily, the Temples, trace their de- 
scent from one of the Saxou earls anterior to the Norman 
Conquest. With this family the ducal house of Bucking- 
ham and Chandos is connected by ancient marriage. The 
Temples themselves were of some distinction in English 
political history as early as the time of Elizaljeth, or even 
eai'lier ; but perhaps the most celebrated of them was the 
famous Sir Wilham Temple, the friend of William IH. and 
the patron of Dean Swift. They were first ennobled in 
1722, when Henry Temple, Esq., was created Baron Temj^le 
of Mount Temple, county Sligo, and Viscount Palmerston 

18 



138 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. 

of Palmcrston, county Dublin, — both dignities being in the 
Irish peerage. He died in 1769, and was succeeded by his 
grandson Henry Temj^le, the second peer, who Hved till 
1802. Of this second peer the subject of this sketch was 
the eldest son ; but there were three other children — a 
son, the late Sir William Temple, K. C. B., long British min- 
ister jjlenipotentiary at Naples, and two daughters, one of 
whom was the wife of Admiral Bowles. The present Lord 
Pahnerston was educated first at Harrow School, then at 
the University of Edinburgh, where Dugald Stewart and 
other distinguished professors were at that time in the 
height of their reputation, and lastly at St. John's College, 
Cambridge. Before the conclusion of his university educa- 
tion he succeeded his father in the title at the age of 
eighteen, 1802. In 1806 he took the degree of M. A. at 
Cambridge. Eai'ly in the same year, being then only 
twenty -one, he contested the representation of the Uni- 
versity of Cambridge in the House of Commons with Lord 
Henry Petty, now the Marquis of Lausdowne, who had 
just accepted the Chancellorship of the Exchequer under 
the Whig government of Lord Grenville, and was conse- 
quently obliged to appeal to his constituency. The young 
candidate for political honors failed in this attempt, but 
was unmediately returned to parliament for the borough 
of Bletchingley. He subsequently sat for Newport in the 
Isle of Wight, but at length obtained the object of his am- 
bition in Ijeing returned for the University of Cambridge. 
From his first entrance into jDarliament Lord Palmerston's 
conduct and manner were such as to impress his seniors 
with his tact and ability, and to mark him out for promo- 
tion and employment. He spoke seldom, but always interestr 
ingly and to the purpose ; and his talents for business were 
from the first conspicuous. In 1807, on the fonnation of 
the Tory administration of the Duke of Portland and 
Mr. Perceval, he was appointed, though then only in his 
twenty-fifth year, a jimior lord of the Admiralty. In this 



LORD PALMERSTON. 139 

capacity he made jjerhaps Lis first important parliamentary 
appearance as a speaker in opposing a motion of Mr. Pon- 
sonby, February, 1808, for the production of papei's rela- 
tive to Lord Catlicart's expedition to Copenhagen and the 
destruction of the Danish fleet, — measures which had been 
ordered by the government for fear of an active cooperar 
tion of Denmark with Napoleon I. On this occasion Lord 
Palmerston broached those notions as to the necessity of 
secrecy in diplomatic aflairs on which he has ever since 
acted. In 1809, when Lord Castlereagh resigned the office 
of Secretary of War under the Perceval ministry, Lord 
Palmerston succeeded him ; and in February, 1810, he for 
the first time moved the Army estimates in the House. 
It seemed as if the secretaryship at war was the post in 
which Lord Palmerston was to live and die. He held it 
uninterruptedly through the Perceval administration ; he 
continued to hold it through the long Livei'pool-Castlereagh 
administration which followed, 1812-27, the first three years 
of whose tenure of power were occupied with the final 
great wars against Napoleon ; he held it still during Can- 
ning's brief premiership, April to August, 1827 ; he con- 
tinued to hold it under the ministry of Lord Goderich, 
August, 1827, to January, 1828 ; and he held it for a 
while under the succeeding administration of the Duke of 
Wellington. Under this last mmistry, however, he found 
himself unable to act. Never appearing to interest himself 
much in general politics, but confining himself as much as 
possil)le to the business of his own department, he had 
yet, towards the close of the Liverpool administration — 
especially after Canning's accession to the foreign secre- 
taryship on the death of Castlereagh in 1822 — shoAvn a 
more liberal spirit than was general among his colleagues. 
He seemed to attach himself to Canning and to share his 
opinions : like him, he was a friend to Roman Catholic 
emancipation, and to the cause of constitutional as distinct 
from despotic government on the Continent ; though, like 



140 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. 

him also, he opposed for the time all projects of parlia- 
mentary reform at home. These tendencies, growing more 
decided after Canning's death, unfitted him for cooperation 
with the Duke of Wellington's government, and in May, 
1828, he seceded from it along with Huskisson and others 
of " Canning's party." Meantime he had spoken much on 
foreign afiliirs, and with such ability that, after Canning's 
death, he was felt to be the greatest parliamentary master 
of that order of subjects. Before leaving the Wellington 
ministry he had opposed the Test and Corporation Bills; 
Init he had done so on the j^rinciple that he coidd not 
relieve Pi'otestant Dissenters till the emancipation of the 
Roman Catholics had taken place. 

As aia independent member. Lord Palmerston devoted 
himself especially to foreign questions. He kept up the 
character of being Mi'. Canning's successor, the inheritor 
of his mantle. His speech on the tenth of March, 1830, 
in which, in moving for papers respecting the relations of 
England with Portugal, he developed Canning's idea of the 
necessity of increased sympathy on the part of England 
with the cause of struggling nationality abroad, was ac- 
counted a great parliamentary success. The motion was 
lost by a majority of one hundred and fifty to seventy- 
three ; but it marked out Lord Palmerston as the future 
foreign secretary, as soon as a ministry should be formed 
of wdiich he could become a member. Such a ministry 
was formed m November, 1830, when the Duke of Wel- 
lington resigned, and the Whigs came into office. Twenty 
years Secretary at War as a Tory, Lord Palmerston now 
became foreign secretary as a Whig ; but his known at- 
tachment to the liberalized Toryism which Canning had 
professed and introduced, was felt to constitute a sufficient 
transition. Roman Catholic emancipation, of which he had 
always been a supporter, had already been carried ; and 
the only question where a modification of his previous 
opinions was requisite was that of parliamentary reform, 



LORD PALMERSTOX. 141 

— the very question which the Whig ministry had been 
formed to settle. Lord Pahnerston's assent to the Reform 
Bill policy of his colleagues led to a disagreement Avith 
the Cambridge University electors ; and, losing his seat for 
Cambridge, he fell back, 1831, on his old borough of 
Bletchingley. Eepresenting first this borough, and then, 
after the Eeform Bill in 1832, the county of South Hants, 
Lord Palmerston remained foreign minister till December, 
1834, when the Whigs went out of office, and were suc- 
ceeded by the Conservative ministry of Sir Robert Peel. 
This ministry lasted only till April, 1835, when the new 
Whig administration of Lord Melbourne was fonned, and 
Lord Palmerston, who had lost his seat for South Hants at 
the general election, and been returned for the borough 
of Tiverton, resumed his functions as foreign minister. He 
continued to exercise them till September, 1841 ; and these 
six years were perhaps the j^ei'iod during which he at- 
tained that reputation for brilliancy, alertness, and omnis- 
cience as a foreign minister, which has made his name a 
word of exultation to his admirers, and of execration and 
fear to some foreign governments. It was during this time 
that over the Continent from Spain to Turkey, the name 
" Palmerston " began to be used as synonymous with Eng- 
lish diplomatic activity ; and it was during the same time 
that a party of erratic politicians sprang up in England, 
who sought to prove that he was a voluntary tool of Rus- 
sia, and argued for his impeachment. The opposition of 
the Conservatives in parliament was a more normal matter. 
It was during this period of his foreign secretaryship un- 
der the Melbourne administration that Lord Palmerston 
married. His wife, the present Lady Palmerston, was the 
daughter of the first Lord Melbourne and the widow of 
the fifth Earl Cowper. On the reaccession of Sir Robert 
Peel to office in 1841, Lord Palmerston retired from the 
foreign secretaryship; and he continued in opposition till 
1846, when, on the retii'ement of Sir Robert Peel after 



142 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. 

the alsolition of the Corn Laws, July, 1846, he again 
became Foreign Secretary, as a member of the new 
Whig ministry of Lord John Russell. He continued to 
direct the diplomacy of the country in this capacity, 
— steering the policy of Britain in his characteristic 
fashion thix)ugh the many difficult and intricate foreign 
questions which arose, and, amongst them, through the 
many questions connected with the European revolu- 
tionary movement of 1848-49, including the Italian and 
Hungarian wars, — till the year 1851, when differences 
with Lord John Russell and with his other colleagues 
induced him to resign. The year 1851, in flict, closed 
that part of Lord Palmerston's history which is con- 
nected \vith his tenure of the foreign secretaryship in 
particular. 

But such a man could not remain long out of office. 
Broken up mainly by Lord Palmerston's secession from it, 
the ministry of Lord John Russell gave place, December, 
1852, to the coalition ministry of Lord Aberdeen. As Lord 
Aberdeen had been the foreign minister under previous 
Conservative governments, and was therefore regarded as 
the rival and in some respects the antagonist of Lord 
Palmerston in this particular department. Lord Palmerston 
in joming the coalition ministry took the office of home 
secretary, while the foreign secretaryship was taken by 
Lord John Russell. The business of his new office was 
discharged l:)y Lord Palmerston with his customary activity 
till the dissolution of the Aberdeen ministry in 1855, when 
his Lordship ascended to the apex of power as the First 
Lord of the Treasmy and Prime Minister of Britain. In 
that capacity it has fallen to him to conduct the greatest 
war in which the country has been engaged since 1816, — 
the war with Russia ; and in the conduct of that war to 
establish that system of alliances with continental pow- 
ers, more especially with France, which still holds. From 
the time of the cotip d'etat in France, Lord Pahnerston 



LORD PALMERSTON. 143 

had always expressed his respect for Louis Napoleon ; and 
consequently in the conduct of the war, and of the nego- 
tiations which concluded it, Napoleon III. and Lord Pal- 
merston are supposed to have deferred to each other, and 
to have acted systematically in concert. As regards other 
powers, consequently, there has not been on the part of 
Lord Palmerston, while premier, any strong dh-ection of 
the policy of England one way or the other. Thus, while 
always keeping up the language of Canning as to the joro- 
priety of encouraging freedom and constitutional govern- 
ment abroad, and while usmg this language more especially 
of late with respect to Italy, he has never ceased to assert 
the maintenance of the integrity and power of the Aus- 
trian empire to be a necessity in the European system. 
This principle appears to have regulated his conduct also 
as foreign minister in the matter of the Hungarian wars 
of 1848-9. He gave no approbation to the popular move- 
ments ; but he supported Turkey in refusing to give up 
the refugees, and advised the governments to leniency when 
the movements were suppressed, and to more moderate rule 
afterwards. 

The history of Lord Palmerston — of his acts, opinions, 
and views — is to he gathered in detail from the parliar 
mentary reports of the last fifty years ; but more especially 
from the Blue Books of our foreign diplomatic correspond- 
ence since he went into the foreign secretaryship thirty- 
six years ago. On special questions there have been 
scores of pamphlets for and against him. No collected 
edition of his speeches has been . published ; nor perhaps 
would the light, off-hand, and conversational yet energetic 
orations with which he charms the House, and often baffles 
and provokes an opjionent, bear this test ; but some of 
his more important speeches have been pviblished sepa- 
rately at the time of their delivery in the foi-m of pam- 
phlets. The others remain more or less vividly in the 
memories of those who heard them, or lie buried in "Han- 



144 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. 

sard " and the newspapers. His speeches are generally 
shorter than those of other parliamentary leaders ; and his 
occasional letters show the same light and easy energy as 
his speeches. 




'I ^"' [fli m 0.T © G^ M [R nn - ':2/e [LH 



LORD JOHN RUSSELL. 



This emiuent British minister and statesman has acted a 
prominent part in the jDubHc affairs of the Enghsh govern- 
ment for many years. Few public men have been more 
industrious or accomphshed so much in the various stations 
which he has filled, as Lord John Russell. Although now 
at the rijje age of seventy years, he still performs the 
arduous duties of a minister of the British Crown with 
untiring assiduity. The outhne historic sketch of such a 
man is interesting and instructive. 

The Right Hon. Lord John, is the third and youngest 
son of the sixth Duke of Bedford, by his first wife, the 
Hon. Georgiania Elizabeth, the second daughter of the 
fourth Viscount Torrington. His eldest brother, the pres- 
ent or seventh Duke, is four years his senior. He was 
born in Hertford Street, London, on the eighteenth of Au- 
gust, 1792, aud was educated first at Westminster school, 
and afterwards at the University of Edinburgh, where he 
attended the moral philosophy lectures of Dugald Stewart 
and Thomas Brown. It was Lord John Russell, who head- 
ed the deputation of students that waited on Dugald Stew- 
art to congratulate him on his recovery from the illness 
which had caused him to have recourse to Brown's help, 
and to thank him for having procured so valuable a sub- 
stitute. In 1813, at the age of twenty-one, he entered 
the House of Commons as member for Tavistock, of 
which borough his father had the disposal ; and, faithful 

19 



146 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. 

to the hereditary Whiggism of the house of Bedford, he 
attached huuself at once to the opposition, who were then 
maintaming Whig principles against the powerful ministry 
of Livei'pool and Castlereagh. It was about this time that 
the cessation of the European war left the mind of the 
nation free to return to home-politics ; and the first por- 
tion of Lord John Russell's parhamentary career is identi- 
fied with the progress of that stubborn contest which the 
Whig opposition, with the country at their l)ack, carried on 
inch by inch till the year 1827 against the reigning Tory- 
ism. His abilities, and the industry and conscientiousness 
Avith which he devoted himself to politics as his business, 
concurred, with the advantages of his birth and connec- 
tions as a scion of the great ducal house of Bedford, to 
give him very soon the place of a leader among the Whig 
politicians. While takmg part in all the Whig questions, 
he fastened from the first with extraordinary tenacity on 
the main question of parliamentary reform, l^ringing for- 
ward or supporting year after year measures for the suji- 
pression of rotten boroughs and the enfranchisement of 
large commercial towns. Lord Brougham, after speaking 
of the great services rendered to the cause of reform at 
this time in parliament by Earl Grey, Sir Francis Burdett, 
Lord Durham, and others, says, "But no one did more 
lasting and real service to the question than Lord John 
Russell, whose repeated motions, backed by the progress 
of the subject out of doors, had the effect of increasing 
the minority in its favor, in so much that when he at last 
brought it forward in 182G, Mi-. Canning, [then Castle- 
reagh's successor in the foreign secretaryship in the Liv- 
erpool cabinet, but virtual head of the government,] find- 
ing he could only defeat it by a comparatively small 
majority, pronounced the question substantially carried. It 
was probably from this time that his j^arty perceived the 
prudence of sta//ing a change which they could not jircvent." 
The bill, the proposal of which had this important efiect. 



LORD JOHN RUSSELL. 147 

was one for disfranchising certain rotten boroughs and 
substituting large and imj^ortant towns in their place. At 
the time of pro2:)Osing it Lord John was no longer member 
for Tavistock, but for Huntingdonshire, which county he 
had represented since 1820. 

While thus laying the foundation of his reputation as a 
serious and persevering Whig statesman, and as the man 
among the junior Whigs who had made the question of 
parliamentary refoim most thoroughly his own, Lord John 
had at the same time made various appearances as an 
author. Li 1819 he pubhshed in qviarto a "Life of Wil- 
liam, Lord Russell, with some account of the Times in 
which he lived," — a graceful and characteristic tribute to 
his celebrated Whig ancestor. The work was followed in 
1821 by "An Essay on the History of the English Gov- 
ei'nment and Constitution, from the Reign of Henry VII. 
to the Present Time ; " and this again by an effort in 
verse entitled " Don Carlos, or Persecution ; a Tragedy in 
Five Acts," published in 1822, and which went through 
several editions in the course of that year. The subject 
of the tragedy is the story of Don Carlos of Spain, the 
son of Philip II., already dramatized by the genius of 
Schiller. In 1824 Lord John published the first volume 
of a work of a different character, entitled " Memoirs of 
the Affairs of Europe from the Peace of Utrecht," but the 
work was not completed till 1829. Several lighter pro- 
ductions, in the shape of sketches, etc., also came from 
his pen about this period ; and indeed for a time he 
seemed to be divided between politics and literature. This 
was the period of his first intimacy with Moore and with 
others of the literary men who used to frequent the 
society of Lord Lansdowne and of Holland House ; and 
there is extant a poem of Moore's remonstrating with 
Lord John Russell on an intention which he had inti- 
mated to Moore in conversation, of withdrawuig from po- 
litical pursuits altogether: — 



148 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. 

" Shall thou be faint-lieai'tecl ami turn from tlie strife, 
From the mighty ai'ena, where all that is grand 
And devoted and pure and adorning in life 

'Tis for high-thoughted spirits like thine to command ? " 

Fortunately, Lord John did not carry out Lis intention, but 
continued in that career of pohtical hfe, in which it was, 
and not specially in literature, that nature had fitted him 
to excel. 

On the resignation of the Wellington ministry in Novem- 
ber, 1830, Lord John Russell, then in the thirty-ninth year 
of his age, entered on office for the first time, as Pay- 
master of the Forces, under the reform or first Whig min- 
istry of Earl Grey, — a ministry which the death of George 
IV. and the accession of AVilliam IV. had rendered possible. 
Parliamentary reform was now the one paramount question 
of national interest ; and the new ministry had come in 
expressly because the country wished them to carry it. 
The man on whom the most important part of the work 
devolved was Lord John Russell. He was one of four 
members of the ministry, — the others bemg Lord Durham, 
Sir James Graham, and Lord Duncannon, — who were ap- 
pointed to shape and prepare the bill and submit it to 
their colleagues ; and on the first of March, 1831, he 
brought before the House of Commons the bill so pre- 
pared and agreed upon. Some measure of reform had been 
expected ; but a bill of so comprehensive a kind as this 
took the country by sin-prise. 

When Lord John produced it in the house, it was re- 
ceived by the opposite party almost with derision, as ut- 
terly impracticable. But the enthusiasm with which the 
bill — so for surpassing all expectation — was taken up 
out of doors changed the derision into alarm. The mem- 
bers of the Tory party mustered all their strength against 
the bin ; and in the Commons Sir Charles Wetherell, Mr. 
Croker, Mr. Bankes, and Sir Robert Peel appeared as 
champions more esj)ecially of "close boroughs" as a neces- 



LORD JOHN RUSSELL. . 149 

sary part of tlio British constitution. After debates of lui- 
paralleled violence, Lord John's bill passed the second read- 
ing by a majority of one. On the motion for going into 
committee, however, the bill was thrown out by a majority 
of eight ; and it became necessary that the ministry should 
either resign or dissolve parliament. 

They adopted the latter alternative. Tlie nation re- 
sponded with extraordinary decision. Regarding the prom- 
ised " Reform " as little short of a promised millennium, the 
constituencies withstood the influence of great Tory land- 
lords, etc., and to a greater extent than could have Ijeen 
conceived j)Ossible, returned Reformers. In this general 
election Lord John was returned for the county of Devon. 
When the new parliament met, the progress of the bill 
through the House of Commons was, of course, triumphant. 
Then came the opposition of the peers. The bill reached 
the House of Lords on the twenty-second of September, 
1831 ; and on the second reading it was thrown out by a 
majority of forty-one. A vote of confidence passed in the 
Commons by a majority of 131 w\as the immediate answer 
to this ; and it saved the ministry the necessity of resign- 
ing. Parliament was prorogued to give opportunity for 
modifying the bill ; and on its reassemblhig the bill again 
went to the Lords altered in some points, but with the 
all-important Schedule A and the Ten Pound Household 
franchise still remaining. Still the Lords were hostile; Lord 
Grey was placed in a minority of thirty-five ; and, after a 
long interview Avith the king, he and his colleagues re- 
signed, and the government was mtrusted to the Duke of 
Wellington, May 9, 1832. It was now a face to face con- 
test between the Duke as the representative of Toryism, 
and the nation vehement for refonn and ready to go to 
civil war for it. The issue is known. The Duke saw that 
he and the peers must yield ; Earl Grey resumed the min- 
istry. May 18th, and on the seventh of June, 1832, the Re- 
form Bill became the law of the land. The name of Lord 



150 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. 

John Russell will be evei" identified with this important 
crisis in the history of his country ; and his conduct dur- 
ing the fifteen months in which the bill was in suspense 
added greatly to his popularity. 

In the new or first refoi-med parliament Lord John sat 
as member for the electoral district of South Devon, 
1832-35. He still continued to hold the comparatively 
subordinate office of Paymaster of the Forces in the Grey 
and Melbourne ministry, till that ministry was broken up 
by internal differences and secessions, and succeeded, De- 
cember, 1834, by the Conservative ministry of Sir Robert 
Peel. In the various important measures that had been 
passed l>y the Grey ministry he had had his full share ; and 
when he went into opposition, it was with the character 
of having been one of the most consistent of the ministry 
in genuine Whig principles. Earl Grey had by this time 
withdrawn from public life ; Lord Stanley and Sir James 
Graham had seceded from the Whigs on the question of 
the Irish Church ; Lord Brougham was assuming that po- 
sition of pohtical isolation in which he has since remained ; 
and Lord Durham was tending towards radicalism. With 
the exception of Lord Melbourne, Lord John Russell was 
now preeminently the representative of historical Whiggism. 
Accordingly, when Sir Robert Peel, finding his attempt at 
a Conservative government abortive, resigned office in AprU, 
1835, and a new Whig ministry was formed under Lord 
Mel))Ourne, the Home Secretaryship, and with it, the dig- 
nity of ministerial leader in the House of Commons, was 
assigned to Lord John. He had been ousted from his seat 
for South Devon and now sat for Stroud, — a borough 
which he continued to represent till 1841. In 1839, Lord 
John exchanged the post of Home Secretary in the Mel- 
bourne ministry for that of Colonial Secretary, which he 
held while the ministry lasted. In both these posts he 
earned the character of a punctual and able administrator ; 
while his contemijorary activity in ijarliament in carrying 



LORD JOHN RUSSELL. 151 

the Municipal Reform Act and the other measures of the 
ministry corresponded with his place as its virtual head. 
About this time, however, the character of being too much 
of a " Finality " Reformer began to attach to him ; and the 
more advanced liberals of the country began to attack him 
in that charactei'. An exposition of much of his political 
creed, at this time, will be found in his published ■" Letters 
to the Electors of Stroud, on the Principles of the Reform 
Act," which went through various editions. 

But Whiggism generally was not so popular throughout 
the country as it had been, the experience of some nine 
years having abated the enormous expectations awakened 
by the Reform Bill, while the formidable power of O'Con- 
nell was also telling against the Whigs. This was shown 
by the result of the general election of 1841. In the 
August of that year. Lord Melljourne in the House of 
Lords, and Lord John Russell in the House of Commons, 
announced the resignation of the Whig ministry. Sir Rob- 
ert Peel came into power at the head of that Conservative 
administration which lasted till July, 1846. During these 
five years, August, 1841 to July, 1846, Lord John's po- 
sition in parliament was that of leader of the Whig oppo- 
sition. He no longei', however, sat for Stroud, but for the 
city of London, having been elected in 1841 as one of the 
representatives of this great constituency. As leader of 
the opposition he was true to his character as a moderate 
Whig of the historical school rather than a violent chief 
of faction eager to oust his opponents and adapting his 
principles and his promises to that end. But the great 
movement of the day was not one having much con- 
nection with Whiggism proper. While Messrs. Cobden and 
Brioht were conductins; the Anti-Corn Law ao;itation out 
of doors, and the opinion of the country was flowing 
mainly in the channel of this great question, Lord John 
Russell's relation to it was rather that of an observer from 
within parliament than of an active guide one way or the 



152 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. 

other. At first, indeed, he, as well as the Conservatives, 
was opposed to the League ; and his favorite solution of 
the problem was by a small fixed duty on foreign corn. 
At length, however, in a letter from Edinburgh addressed 
to his constituents, he spoke out in favor of total repeal. 
This was in the autumn of 1845. It was not destined, 
however, that a Whig ministry should settle this great 
question. Sir Robert Peel himself came to the desired con- 
clusion, and by his exertions and influence among the Con- 
servatives, the Corn Laws were abolished July 26, 1846. 

The ministry of Sir Eobert Peel having been shortly 
afterwards broken up by the rejection of his Irish coercion 
bin, Lord John Russell was called to the premiership as 
the head of a Whig ministry. He held the office of 
premier from July, 1846, to March, 1852. The general 
complaint made against his administration both at the time 
and since, was that it was non-progressive and fruitless of 
important measures. " The Whigs in office," it was said, 
" do less than the Conservatives." The reason of this com- 
plaint, so far as it was just, may have lain partly in Lord 
John's own character, as a Whig of the historical school, 
adverse not only to the ballot, but to many of those other 
measures on which the more advanced Liberals had set 
their hopes and which they had in view when they spoke 
of progress. In a great measure, however, it consisted in 
the 1jroken-up state of parfiamentary parties. There were 
now the Peelites, and the Protectionists or Derbyites, as 
well as the Whigs and the advanced Liberals, and among 
these parties Lord John could depend on but a small and 
varying majority. Nor in those cases in which he did 
make attempts of an energetic character was he fortunate 
in conciliating support to his policy. His "Letter to the 
Bishop of Durham in reference to the usurpation of the 
Pope of Rome," published in 1850, just after the bull ap- 
pointing Cardinal Wiseman Roman Catholic Primate of 
England and other Roman Catholic Bishops in various 



LOED JOHN RUSSELL. 153 

English sees, occasioned much adverse comment ; and the 
Ecclesiastical Titles Bill, dealing with the same question, 
proved a failure. Towards the close of 1851, too, his gov- 
ernment was further weakened by the secession of Lord 
Palmerston, who then quitted the foreign office in circum- 
stances having the appearance of a rupture with the Whigs 
on account of offence taken at his foreign policy. Accord- 
ingly, in March, 1852, the country saw with little concern 
Lord John's ministry defeated on a Militia Bill, which they 
had introduced with a view to provide for the defence of 
the country in case of a foreign war. The blow to the 
ministry was given by Lord Palmerston, who proposed 
an important alteration in the ministerial measure. The 
government thus passed into the hands of Lord Derby and 
Mr. Disraeh, who had in the mean time reorganized a 
strong Protectionist or old Tory j^arty. 

After holding office for some months, the Derby-Disraeli 
government broke down on the budget, and the celebrated 
Coalition Cabinet 'was formed with Lord Aberdeen at its 
head, December, 1852. Li this cabinet Lord Palmerston 
took the office of Home Secretary; and Lord John Russell 
held that of Foreign Seci-etary till February, 1853, when 
he resigned it to Lord Clarendon. From February, 1853, 
till June, 1854, he preferred the somewhat anomalous posi- 
tion of a member of the Cabinet without office ; but in 
June, 1854, he accepted the office of Lord President of the 
Council. In this office, he brought forward in that year a 
new Refonn Bill which he had prepared in the last year 
of his own premiership and had hoped then to carry. 
Both the country and parliament however being then en- 
grossed with the beginnings of the great Russian war. 
Lord John was obliged to abandon his favorite measure, or 
at least to postpone it to a more convenient time. Nor 
was it long before he found occasion to differ with Lord 
Aberdeen and the Peelite portion of the government on 
the conduct of the war. Refusing to share the unpopular- 

20 



154 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. 

ity attached to the A1)erdeen ministry on account of the 
disasters in the Crimea, Lord John resigned his connection 
with it before its final disruption in January, 185G. Ac- 
cordingly, when Lord Palmerston formed his ministry for 
the more vigorous prosecution of the war, Lord John con- 
sented to serve under him as Colonial Secretary. This 
connection between two men whose antecedents had made 
them to some extent rivals did not last long. When the 
Vienna conferences were agreed upon with a view to the 
conclusion of a peace between Russia and the allies, Lord 
John accepted the oflfer made by Lord Palmerston that he 
should be British plenipotentiary at the conferences. The 
issue of his lordship's negotiations in this capacity did not 
give satisfaction ; and in June, 1855, he resigned his place 
in the mmistry, and left to Lord Palmerston the honor and 
responsibility of concluding the war in a manner that the 
nation would approve. 

From that time till the moment at which we write, 
April, 1857, Lord Jolm's position in parliament has been 
that of an independent statesman, — sometimes supporting 
and, sometimes criticising Lord Palmerston's policy, and in 
the mean time waiting, it is supposed, tUl events recall 
himself to power and enalde him to initiate a new era of 
Whiggism by another Reform Bill. He was one of that 
miscellaneous majority who supported Mr. Cobden's motion, 
condemning Lord Palmerston's government, on account of 
the hostile proceedings against Canton, and so occasioned 
the dissolution of parliament in March, 1857. Pul)lic feel- 
ing so thoroughly going along with Lord Palmerston on 
this " China question," it was supposed that Loixl John 
Russell would lose his seat for London, if he presented 
himself for reelection. EtForts were made to oust him ; Init 
he was bold enough to go to the poll ; and the recollec- 
tion of his past services so far prevailed over temporary 
dissatisfaction with him that he was returned third on the 
list. At the present moment, April, 1857, there is much 



LORD JOHN RUSSELL. 155 

speculation as to what may be liis future career. That 
he may yet lead the country in great home questions is 
everywhere regarded as a likelihood ; and it remains yet 
to be seen whether Lord Palmerston's relations to him and 
his to Lord Palmerston will be such in the new parliament 
that the country can have the services of both without 
the spectacle of their rivalry. 

Lord John has been twice married, — first to Adelaide, 
eldest daughter of Thomas Lister, Esq., of Armytage Park, 
and widow of the second Lord Eibblesdale ; and secondly, 
to Lady Frances, second daughter of the Earl of Minto. 
He has a family. Among his literary appearances, besides 
those that have been mentioned, and besides numerous po- 
litical letters, etc., are "A Selection from the Correspond- 
ence of John, fourth Duke of Bedford, from the Originals 
at Woburn Abbey, \vith an Introduction," 1842-3; "Memo- 
rials and Correspondence of Charles James Fox," edited, etc., 
1853, ei seq. ; and " Memoirs, Journal, and Correspondence 
of Thomas Moore," edited, etc., 1853-6. Lord John has also 
not unfrequently lectured at educational and other institu- 
tions ; and some of these lectures have been pubhshed, — 
the latest being one on " The Obstacles which have re- 
tarded Moral and Political Progress," delivered in Exeter 
Hall before the Young Men's Christian Association in 1856. 
He has recently annoimced his intention not to lecture in 
public any more, — but to devote his time rather to fur- 
thering the cause of education as a statesman. 




-.:A\iB>[L ClL 



LORD CLARENDON. 



The long public life and eminent services of this noble- 
man have much endeared him to the people of England. 
George William Frederick Vilhers, now fourth Earl of 
Clarendon, was born January 12, 1800. He is the eldest 
son of the late Hon. George Villiers, by Theresa, only 
daughter of the first Lord Boringdon. He succeeded to 
the title on his uncle's death in December, 1838. The 
fomider of the Villiers family was a favorite of James I., 
whose descendants became ultimately earls of Jersey. 
About the middle of last century a younger son of the 
then Earl of Jersey married a daughter of the Earl of 
Essex, whose countess was heiress of the Hydes, formerly 
Earls of Clarendon and Rochester. This gentleman, who 
was successively joint Postmaster-General, Chancellor of 
the Duchy of Lancaster, and Ambassador at the Court 
of Berlin, was ultimately created Earl of Clarendon in 
1776 ; and it is his third sou who was the father of the 
present peer. 

Lord Clarendon was educated at Cambridge. He entered 
the civil service at an early age; and in 1823 was ap- 
pointed to a commissionership of the excise in Dublin by 
the late Marquis of Anglesey. The ability, intelligence, 
mental activity, and general knowledge displayed by liim 
in this capacity, recommended him to the home govern- 
ment for some higher employment. Accordingly, in 1831, 
he was employed by the government in arranging a com- 
mercial treaty with France ; and, when a crisis arrived in 
Spanish affairs in 1833, he was sent to the Court of Madrid 



158 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. 

as British Envoy and Minister Plenipotentiary. Here again, 
though his stay was prolonged through a period of more 
than ordinary civil strife and confusion, he was so fortu- 
nate as to secure the confidence of the government which 
he represented, and at the same time the good opinion of 
the inhabitants of the Sjaanish metropolis. Soon after his 
accession to the earldom, in 1838, he returned to England. 
He had not long taken his seat in the House of Lords, 
when a speech which he delivered on the question of 
Spanish affah's attracted the pubHc attention ; and, on a 
rearrangement of the Melbourne Cabmet taking place in 
January, 1840, Lord Clarendon was appomted Lord Privy 
Seal, an office to which the chancellorship of the Duchy 
of Lancaster was added on Lord Holland's death in the 
same year. Li 1841 Sir Robert Peel came again into 
power, and Lord Clarendon's official duties ceasing, he re- 
mained in opposition for five years. On the accession of 
Lord John Eussell to the premiership in 1846, he became 
President of the Board of Trade. This position however 
he did not long retam, as on the death of tlie Earl of 
Bessborough, he was sent to Ireland as Lord-Lieutenant in 
May, 1847. He entered on his viceregal duties at a period 
of consideralile agitation. Famine and fever had brought 
on great national distress and suffering, and the death 
of O'ConneU, which had been announced in Dublin a few 
days previously, was just beginning to cause much popular 
excitement ; the Repeal Association were holding larger 
meetings and usmg stronger language than ever ; and the 
partial rebellion of 1848 was beginning to cast its shadow 
before it. The following extract from Lord Clarendon's 
answer to an address presented to liim by the Roman 
Catholic prelates states in few words the spirit in which 
he entered on his duties as viceroy there : — " The eternal 
principles of justice and morality can never be violated 
with imj^unity, and the unrighteous legislation of by -gone 
times has left in Ireland traces which must be long and 



LORD CLARENDON. 159 

severely felt. By joenal enactments, doubtless, industry was 
discouraged, property was unequally distributed, the growth 
of a middle class was retarded, the people were demoral- 
ized, and the whole flibric of society rendered hollow and 
insecure. The remedy for such a state of things has of 
necessity been slow and difficult ; but it is for the legisla- 
ture and the government, and for all those who, living in 
better times and exercising authority, have at heart the 
true interests of Ireland, to efface the memory of the past, 
and by equal laws, im23artial justice, and forbearing par 
tience, steadily to carry on the great work of social regen- 
eration, and to jilivce the people of Ireland in the position 
which they are entitled to occupy." In spite however of 
this declaration. Lord Clarendon was obliged before the end 
of the year to proclaim sevei'al disaffected districts. 

The energetic and prudent manner in which he met the 
threatened danger, and by which he averted the attempt 
at rebellion in the following year, established his political 
character in a point of view which the historian of that 
period will gladly turn to as a proof of the efficiency of a 
just modei'ation as opposed alike to a blind security or a 
violent system of coercion. At a later period he had to 
repress the excesses of the Orange party, and in so doing 
displayed firmness and moderation similar to that which 
the popular tumults had called forth. Lord Clarendon held 
the viceregal office till February, 1852, when, with the 
other memljers of the Russell ministry, he resigned, and 
was replaced by the Earl of Eglinton. His impartial rule 
exposed him to the censures of the moi'e violent writers 
and orators belonging to both the extreme parties which 
so long divided Ireland ; but now that strife has somewhat 
subsided, all parties seem willing to acknowledge Lord 
Clarendon's desire to improve the national condition of 
the people and to increase the prosperity of the country. 
Immediately on the formation of the Aberdeen minis- 
try. Lord Clarendon gave in his adhesion to the coahtion 



160 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. 

cabinet, and took the seals of the Foreign Office, for which 
it was felt that he was admirably fitted by his address and 
skill in diplomacy, and from his deep insight into the views 
and feelings of the various courts and cabinets of Europe. 
The ability with which he has discharged the duties of 
that office since January, 1853, has been repeatedly recog- 
nized, not merely by friends, but by political opponents; 
so much so, that when, in 1855, Lord Derby ineffectually 
attempted to form a ministry, he confessed that, in the 
event of becoming premier, he would have been ready to 
offer the Foreign Seals to Lord Clarendon. On the acces- 
sion of Lord Palmerston to power in February, 1855, no 
change was made in the foreign department. Accordingly, 
in the great and stirring events of the last three years, 
Lord Clarendon has been forced to occupy a leading posi- 
tion, and he has played a distinguished part well. But 
though he showed a proper energy in supporting the con- 
duct of the war, Lord Clarendon was not unmiudful of the 
blessings of peace, and did not desire to carry on hostili- 
ties further than was sufficient to secure the foundation of 
an honorable and lasting peace. Accordingly, when it was 
announced that a peace congress was about to be held at 
Paris, the nation looked to Lord Clarendon to take part 
in it on behalf of England. This duty Lord Clarendon 
discharged in conjunction with Lord Cowley, the British 
ambassador at Paris. In a speech delivered at the opening 
of the session of parliament in 1856, he explained fully 
the views with which her Majesty's ministers would enter 
on the negotiation with Russia. While he denied that the 
English government intended to carry on the war after 
the primary end and object had been attained, he still de- 
clared that xmtil those negotiations should be concluded, 
every preparation would continue to be made for war; 
and that if a peace should not be ai'ranged, the war would 
be prosecuted with increased activity. It was this speech, 
probably, which tended more than any other single cause 



LOED CLARENDON. 161 

to lead the natioual mind to acquiesce iu the peace re- 
cently concluded, April, 1856, between the beUigerent pow- 
ers ; and the judgment and tact displayed by his lordship 
in the congress at Paris have been the subject of no slight 
or partial praise among all classes. His discreet zeal m the 
matter of mooted refonns, both civil and religious, in the 
States of the Italian peninsula, has also been deservedly 
commended. 

Lord Clarendon married in 1839 a sister of the present 
Earl of Verulam, by whom he has a youthful ftimily. He 
was created a G. C. B. (Civil) m 1838, and m 1849 re- 
warded with the knighthood of the Garter. Of his broth- 
ers, one has been recently advanced to the Bishopric of 
Carlisle, and the other is the Eight Hon. Charles Pelham 
Vilhers, Judge-Advocate-General, and M. P. for Wolver- 
hampton, whose early exertions in the cause of free trade 
are not likely to be easily forgotten by the British public. 
A sister of the Earl of Clarendon, Lady Theresa Lewis, is 
favorably kno^vn as the authoress of the series of bio- 
graphical sketches entitled " Friends and Contemporaries of 
the Lord Chancellor Clarendon." 



21 




:}.•/,'/!:,/■ r.'.^JSAR'PAiN AFrr.H IjM'nETS POBIWUT 



THE DUKE OP WELLINGTON. 



With the accurate and imposing portrait of this re- 
nowned commander of British armies and hero of an 
hundred battles, and the conqueror of Napoleon on the 
memorable and sanguinary field of Waterloo, it is fitting 
to record a brief outline biographical sketch of his events 
ful life. The portrait is lifelike. We have seen the orig- 
inal face often, and love to gaze u2:)on one whose eyes 
have looked out upon such tremendous scenes of battle 
and carnage. 

Arthur Wellesley, afterwards Duke of Wellington, was 
bom at Dangan Castle in Ireland, on May 1, 1769. Mar- 
shal Ney, Goethe, and several of the greatest men of the 
age, were born in the same year. His father was Lord 
Mornington, an Irish nobleman, but he was of Norman 
blood, being ImeaUy descended from the standard-bearer to 
Henry H., in his conquest of Ireland in the year 1100. 
His elder brother, who succeeded to the flimily honors, was 
a man of great genius and capacity, who afterwards be- 
came Governor-General of India, and was created Marquis 
Wellesley. Thus the same family had the extraordinary 
fortune of giving birth to the statesman whose counsel and 
rule preserved and extended the British empire in the 
Eastern, and the hero whose invincible arm saved his coun- 
try and conquered Napoleon in the Western world. Young 
Arthur Wellesley, after having received the elements of 
education at Eton, was sent to the military school of An- 
gers in France to be instructed in the art of war, for 
which he already evinced a strong predilection. He re- 



164 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. 

ceived his first couiniissiou in the army in the thirty-third 
regiment, which to this day is distinguished by the honor 
then conferred upon it. The first occasion on which he 
was called into active service was in 1793, when his regi- 
ment was ordered abroad, and formed part of the British 
contingent, which marched across from Ostend, under Lord 
Moira, to join the allied army in Flanders. He bore an 
active part in the campaign which followed, and distin- 
guished himself so much in several actions with the enemy, 
that, though only a captain in rank, he came at length to 
execute the duties of major, and did good service in sev- 
eral well-fought aftairs of the rear guard in which he bore 
a part. Though the issue of the campaign was unfortu- 
nate, and it terminated in the disastrous retreat through 
Holland in 1794, yet it was of essential service in training 
Wellesley to the duties to which he was hereafter to be 
called, for it was with an army at one time mustering 
ninety thousand combatants that he had served ; and his 
first initiation into the duties of his profession was with 
the great bodies which he was afterwards destmed to com- 
mand, and his firet insight into war was on a great scale, 
to which his own achievements were one day destined to 
form so bright a contrast. After the return of the troops 
from Holland, the thirty -third regiment was not again 
called into active service till 1799, when it was sent out 
to India, to reinforce the troops there on the eve of the 
important war, in which Lord Wellesley, his elder brother, 
who was now Governor- General, was engaged with the 
forces of Tippoo Saib. Young Wellesley went with them, 
and on his way ovit his library consisted of two books, 
which he studied incessantly, — the Bible, and Ctesar's 
Commentaries. War having broken out in 1803 between 
the East-India Company and the Mahrattas, General Wel- 
lesley, to which rank he had now been promoted, received 
the command of one of the armies destined to operate 
against them. After having stormed the strong fortress of 



THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 165 

Achmednagliur, which Lay on the road, he came up with 
the Mahratta force, thirty thousand strong, posted at the 
village of Assay e. Wellesley's forces, at the moment, did 
not exceed four thousand five hundred men, of whom only 
seventeen hundred were European ; and the half of his 
army, under Colonel Stevenson, was at a distance, ad- 
vancing by a different road, separated from his own by a 
ridge of intervening hills. But justly deeming the boldest 
course in such critical ch'cumstances the most prudent, he 
took the resolution of instantly attacking the enemy with 
the small body of men under his immediate command. 
The result showed the wisdom as well as heroism of the 
determination. After a desperate struggle, in which he 
himself charged a Mahratta battery at the head of the 
seventy -fourth regiment, the vast army of the enemy, 
which comprised eighteen thousand splendid horse, was 
totally defeated, all their guns, ninety -seven in number, 
taken, and their army entirely dispersed. General Welles- 
ley was made a Knight of the Bath for this victory, and 
he returned to England Sir Arthur Wellesley. His next 
employment was at the expedition under Lord Cathcart to 
Copenhagen, in 1807, on which occasion he commanded a 
division of the anny. He was not engaged in the siege, 
but commanded a corps which was detached against a 
body of Danes twelve thovisand strong, who had collected, 
in the rear of the British force, in the island of Zealand. 
They were dispersed without much difficulty by a body of 
seven thousand men, under Sir Arthur Wellesley. After 
the tall of Copenhagen he returned to England, and was 
nominated soon after to the command, in the first instance, 
of an expeditionary force of ten thousand men, which was 
fitted out at Cork, to cooperate with the Portuguese in 
rescuing their country from the tyrannic grasp of the 
French Emperor. The expedition set sail in June, 1808, 
and landed on the coast of Portugal, when they were soon 
assailed by General Junot, who had marched out of Lisbon, 



166 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. 

with nineteen thousand men, to drive him into the sea. 
The British force consisted of sixteen thousand, and, as this 
was the first time the troops of the rival nations had met 
in the peninsula, great interest was attached to the conflict. 
The French were defeated after a sharp action ; and Sir 
Arthur had made preparations to follow up his victory by 
marching the same evening to Torres Vedras, where he 
woidd be between Junot and Lisbon, and would either 
drive him to a disastrous retreat or force him to surrender. 
But at this critical moment, when the order had just been 
despatched for this decisive movement, Sir H. Burrard ar- 
rived, and took the command. He belonged to the old 
school, with whom it was deemed enough to fight one 
battle in one day, and he gave orders to halt. Junot, in 
consequence, hastened back to Torres Vedras, without los- 
ing an hour, and regained the capital. Sir H. Dalrymple 
Koon afterAvards arrived, and concluded the famous conven- 
tion of Cintra, hy which the French evacuated the whole 
of Portugal. That convention excited unbounded indignar 
tion in England at the time ; but Sir A. Wellesley justly 
supported it, for, when the opportunity of cutting off Junot 
from Lisbon had been lost, it was the best thing that 
could be done. Next year, still more operations were un- 
dertaken. Sir Arthur, wdio had now been appointed to the 
sole command of the army in Portugal, landed at Lisbon 
on April fourth, and l)y his presence restored the confidence 
which had been much weakened by the disastrous issue of 
Sir John Moore's campaign in the close of the preceding 
year. His first operation was to move against Marshal 
Soult, who had advanced to Oporto with twenty thousand 
men and taken that city. By a bold movement he ef- 
fected the passage of the Tagus, mider the very guns of 
the enemy, and drove the French to so rapid a retreat, 
that he partook of the dinner which had been prepared 
for Marshal Soult ! The French general, by abandoning all 
his guns and baggage, efiected his retreat into Galicia, but 



THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 167 

not without sustaining losses as great as Sir John Moore 
had done in the preceding year. He next turned towards 
Sjjain, and having effected a junction with the Sjianish 
general, Cuesta, in Estramadura, their united forces, sixty 
thousand strong, but of whom only twenty thousand were 
English and Portuguese, advanced towards Madrid. They 
were met at Talavera by King Joseph, at the head of 
forty-five thousand of the best French troops in Spain. A 
desperate action of two days' duration ensued, which fell 
almost entirely on the English and Portuguese, as the 
Spaniards, who were thirty-eight thousand in number, fled 
at the first shot. The French were in the end defeated, 
with the loss of eight thousand men and seventeen guns ; 
but the fruits of victory were in a great measure lost to 
tlio English by the arrival of Marshals Soult, Ney, and 
Mortier, with the whole forces m the provinces of Galicia, 
Leon, and Asturias, in their rear, which forced them to 
retreat to the Portuguese frontier. But one lasting good 
effect resulted from this movement, that these provinces 
were liberated from the enemy, who never after regained 
their footing in them. 

The year 1810 witnessed the invasion of Portugal by a 
huge French army, eighty thousand strong, imder Marshal 
Massena, which, after capturing the fortresses of Ciudad 
Kodrigo and Ahneida, penetrated into the very heart of 
that country. Sir Arthur, who had now been created Vis- 
count Wellington, had only thirty-five thousand men under 
his command, with which it was unpossible to prevent the 
fall of those fortresses. But he took so strong a position 
on the ridge of Busaco that he repulsed, with great 
slaughter, an attack upon it by two corps of the French 
army, and when at length obliged to retire, from his flank 
being turned after the battle was over, he did so to the 
position of Torres Vedras, thirty miles in front of Lisbon, 
which, by the advantages of nature and the resources of 
art had been rendered mipregnable. Six hundred guns 



168 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. 

were mounted on the redoubts, which were defended by 
sixty thousand armed men. After wasting five months in 
front of this formida])le barrier, the French general was 
forced to retreat, wliich he did, closely followed by Wel- 
lington to the Sjsanish frontier. There Massena turned on 
his pursuer, and he reentered Spain with a view to bring- 
away the garrison of Almeida, which was now invested ; 
but he was met and defeated at Fuentes d'Onore by Wel- 
lington, and forced to retire without effecting his object to 
Ciudad Rodrigo. The remainder of the year 1810 and the 
whole of 1811 passed over without any very important 
events, although a desperate battle took place in the latter 
year at Albuera, where Marshal Soult was defeated, with 
the loss of seven thousand men, by Marshal Beresford, in 
an attempt to raise the siege of Badajoz, which Wellington 
was besieging. He was compelled to desist from that en- 
terprise after he had made gi-eat progress in the siege, by 
a general concentration of the whole French forces in the 
centre and south of Sjoain, who advanced against him to 
the number of sixty thousand men. But, though Welling- 
ton withdrew into Portugal on this occasion, it was only 
soon to return into Spain. In the depth of winter he 
secretly prepared a battering train, which he directed 
against Ciudad Rodrigo, when Marmont's army, charged 
with its defence, was disj)ersed in winter quarters, and 
after a siege of six days, took it by storm in January, 
1812. No sooner was this done than he directed his forces 
against Badajoz, which he also carried by storm, after a 
dreadful assault, which cost the victors four thousand men. 
Directing then his footsteps to the north, he defeated Mar- 
mont, with the loss of twenty thousand men, in killed, 
wounded, and prisoners, near Salamanca ; and advancing to 
Madrid, he entered that capital in triumph, and compelled 
the evacuation of the whole of the south of Spain by the 
French troops. He then turned again to the north, and 
advanced to Burgos, the castle of which he attempted to 



THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 169 

carry, Ijut in vain. He was obliged again to retire, by a 
general concentration of the whole French troops in Spain, 
one hundred thousand strong, against him, and regained 
the Portuguese frontier, after having sustained very heavy 
losses during his retreat. The next campaign, that of 
1813, was a continual triumph. Early in May, Welhngton, 
whose army had now Ijeen raised to seventy thousand 
men, of whom forty thousand were native Englishmen, 
moved forwai'd, and driving everything before him, came 
up with the French army of equal strength, which was 
concentrated from all parts of Sjiain in the Plain of Vit- 
toria. The battle which ensued was decisive of the fate 
of the peninsula. The French, who were under King 
Joseph in person, were totally defeated, with the loss of 
one hundred and fifty-six pieces of cannon, four hundred 
and fifteen tumbrils, their whole baggage, and an amount 
of spoil never before won in modern times by an army. 
The accumulated plunder of five years in Spain was 
wrenched from them at one fell swoop. For several miles 
the soldiers literally marched on dollars and Napoleons 
which strewed the ground. The French regamod their 
frontier with only one gun, and in the deepest dejection. 
St. Sebastian was immediately besieged, and taken, after 
two bloody assaults, Pampeluna blockaded, and a gallant 
army, thirty-five thousand strong, which Soult had collected 
in the south of France to raise the blockade, defeated with 
the loss of twelve thousand men. Wellington next de- 
feated an attempt of the French again to penetrate into 
France at St. Marcial, and followmg up his successes, crossed 
the Bidassoa, stonned the lines they had constructed on 
the mountains, which were deemed impregnable, and after 
repeated actions, which were most obstinately contested 
through the winter, drove them entu-ely from the neigh- 
borhood of Bayonne, and completed the investment of that 
fortress, while Soult retired, with forty thousand men, tow- 
ards Toulouse. Thither he was followed next spring by 

22 



170 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. 

Wellington, who again defeated him at Orthes, m a pitched 
battle, after which he detached his left wing, under Lord 
Dalhousie, which occupied Bordeaux. The main army, un- 
der Wellington in person, followed Soult and brought him 
to action, in a fortified position of immense strength, on 
the heights of Toulouse. The battle took jilace four days 
after peace had been signed, but when it was unknown to 
the allies : it graced the close of Wellington's peninsular 
career by a glorious victory. Honors and emoluments of 
all kinds were now showered ujion the English general. 
He received a field-marshal's baton from George IV., in re- 
turn for Marshal Jourdan's, taken on the memorable field 
of Vittoria ; he was made a duke at the conclusion of the 
2)eace ; received the thanks of both Houses of Parliament, 
and grants at different times to the amount of five hun- 
dred thousand pounds to purchase an estate and build a 
palace. He was chiefly at Paris during the year 1814, 
conducting the negotiations for peace ; but on the return 
of Napoleon from Elba in March, 1815, he was appointed 
to the command of the united army of British, Hanove- 
rians, and Belgians, seventy thousand strong, formed in the 
Netherlands, to resist the anticipated attack of the French 
Emperor. The French Emperor was not long in making 
the anticipated irruption ; and on the fifteenth of June, 
1815, he crossed the frontier, and drove in the Prussian 
outposts, with one hundred and thirty thousand men. Next 
day he attacked the Prussians, under Bliicher, with eighty 
thousand, and despatched Ney with thirty thousand against 
Wellington's army, which was only beginning to be con- 
centrated. A desperate action ensued at Quatre Bras, in 
which the French were at length rejDulsed with the loss of 
five thousand men ; and, on the eighteenth, Wellington, 
having collected aU his forces at the post of Waterloo, 
gave battle to Napoleon in person, who was at the head 
of eighty thousand men. His force was only sixty-seven 
thousand, with one hundred and fifty-six gims, — whereas, 



THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 171 

the French had two hundred and fifty ; and of these troops 
only forty-three thousand were Enghsh, and Hanoverians, 
and B runs wickers, who could be reUed on, the remainder 
being Belgians, who ran away the moment the action was 
seriously engaged. Notwithstanding this great inequality, 
the British army maintained its ground with invincible 
firmness till seven o'clock, when the arrival of fifty thou- 
sand Prussians, under Bliicher, on Napoleon's flank, enabled 
Wellington to take the oflensive. The result was the total 
defeat of the French army, with the loss of forty thousand 
men and one hundred and fifty-six guns. Napoleon fled to 
Paris, which he soon after left, and surrendered to the 
English, and Louis XVIII. having returned to his capital, 
his dynasty, and with it peace, was restored. The allies 
having determined to occupy the frontier fortresses, with 
an army of one hundred and fifty thousand men during 
five years, the command of the whole was bestowed on 
the Duke of Wellington; thus afibrding the clearest proof 
that his was the master-mind which had come to direct 
the European alliance. Wellington resigned his command, 
and with it his magnificent appointments, in October, 1818, 
and returned to England, to the retirement of a comparar 
tively private station, terminating thus a career of un- 
broken military glory by the yet purer lustre arising from 
relieving the difficulties and assuaging the sufferings of his 
vanquished enemies. In 1819 he was appointed com- 
mander-in-chief of the army, which situation he held dur- 
ing the whole anxious years which followed, and by his 
able and far-seeing arrangements, contributed, in an es- 
sential manner, to bring the nation, without effusion of 
blood, through the long years of distress which followed. 
His long and honored life, after having been prolonged 
beyond the usual period of human existence, at length 
drew to a close. He had, some years before his death, 
alarming symptoms in his head ; so often the consequence 
of long-continued intellectual effort ; but by strict abstemi- 



]72 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. 

ousness aud perfect regularity of life, lie succeeded in sub- 
duing the dangerous symptoms, and he was enabled to 
continue and discharge his duties regularly at the Horse 
Guards till the time of his death, which took place on 
September 18, 1852, at the advanced age of eighty-three 
years. He was honored with a public funeral, and buried 
in St. Paul's, in the most magnificent manner, beside Nel- 
son. The Queen and all the noblest in the land were 
there ; a million of persons witnessed the procession, which 
went from the Hoi'se Guards, by Apsley House, Piccadilly, 
and the Strand, to St. Paid's, and not a head was covered, 
and few eyes dry, when the procession appeared in the 
streets. Wellington was only once married. He left two 
sons, the eldest of whom succeeded to his titles and es- 
tates, the fruits of his transcendent abilities aud great pa- 
triotic services. 




^JUNTJ^JJ Br.jii^ 



jsNn f sr joMM sARrAnr-TMri - 



L [0] ^ 1 t=T 



MiT. 



LOED LYNDHUEST. 



Lord John Singleton Copley Lyndhurst is the only son 
of the eminent painter, John Singleton Copley. His par- 
ents having emigrated from Ireland to America, the future 
Lord Lyndhurst first saw the light at Boston, in the 
United States, on the twenty-first of May, 1772. He was 
about two years old when he was carried over to England 
by his fixther, and the education which he received in his 
youth was from a private tutor. At the usual age he was 
entered a pensioner of Trinity College, Camlaridge, of which 
he was soon afterwards elected scholar. Li the Mathematr 
ical Tripos of 1794 Mr. Copley took his degree of B. A., 
as second wrangler and senior Smith's prizeman, dividiag 
the highest honors of the University with the late Dr. 
Butler, head master of Harrow School and dean of Peter- 
borough. Soon afterwards he was elected a Fellow of his 
college, and his additional appointment as a " Travelling 
Bachelor " gave him an opportunity of visiting the United 
States and the continent of North America. 

Having entered himself at the Temple on his return to 
England, he commenced a diligent and laborious coui'se of 
study, and was called to the bar in 1797. He went for a 
time the Midland circuit, but it was long before he gained 
any great eminence or extensive practice. He was first 
brought into pubhc notice by a report of " The Case of a 
Double Eeturn for the Borough of Pershore," which he 
published in 1808. Time and the ordinary changes which 
made vacancies in his 23rofession gradually enlarged his 
practice, and gave scojie to the development of his talents 



174 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. 

as an advocate. By degrees he obtained the undoubted 
leadership of his circuit ; but it was not vmtil the trial of 
Watson and Thistlewood for high treason, in 1817, in which 
he was engaged to assist the late Sir Charles Wetherell in 
defence of the prisoners, that he had an opportimity of dis- 
playing his abilities on any occasion of great puHic inter- 
est. Up to this period Mr. Copley's politics were decidedly 
liberal. He had exhibited, however, so much address and 
ability, that the Tory party resolved if jiossiljle to press 
him into then- service. Accordingly, at the close of the 
year 1817, we find him employed as counsel for the crown 
in the prosecution of Brand re th and his associates, who 
were executed for high treason. In 1818 Mr. Copley made 
his first step towards substantial promotion, being advanced 
to the post of Chief Justice of the County Palatine of 
Chester ; and about the same time he entered Parliament 
as member for the since disfranchised borough of Yarmouth, 
in the Isle of Wight. In Hilary Term, 1819, he was made 
a king's sergeant and quitted his circuit; and in the course 
of the same year succeeded Sir Eobert (afterwards Lord) 
GifFord as Solicitor-General, when he received the honor of 
knighthood. In 1820 he took an active part, as solicitor- 
general, in conducting the prosecution of his former client 
for the Cato-Street conspiracy, and in the proceedings insti- 
tuted before the House of Lords against Queen Caroline, 
which he conducted with so much moderation and skill 
that he escaped from the general discredit which that 
prosecution brought on all persons who were concerned 
in it. 

In 1824, on the elevation of Sir Eobert GifTord to the 
Mastership of the Eolls, Sir John Copley became Attorney- 
General, and at the general election of 1826 he was re- 
turned as member for Cambridge University, in conjunction 
with Viscount Palmerston. In the same year the death of 
Lord Gifford caused a vacancy in the Eolls Court, to which 
he succeeded. In 1827 the question of Eoman Catholic 



LORD LYNDHURST. 175 

Emancipation was brought forward in the House of Com- 
mons, during the struggle for jaower between various po- 
htical jjarties, owing to the iUness of Lord Livei-pool. The 
bill on this occasion was strenuously opposed by the Mas- 
ter of the Rolls, though he had advocated it in an earlier 
stage of his political career, and though he took office a 
few weeks subsequently under Mr. Canning, when he at- 
tempted to form a ministry on liberal principles. On that 
occasion he was offered and accepted the chancellorship, 
somewhat to tlie surprise of the pubhc, and on the twenty- 
seventh of April in that year he was raised to the peerage 
as Baron Lyndhurst of Lyndhurst, county of Hants. 

Lord Lyndhurst continued to act in harmony with Mr. 
Canning until the death of that statesman in the following 
month of August, and even advocated a relaxation of the 
laws aftectilig Unitarian marriages. He retamed office dur- 
ing Lord Goderich's ministry. He is supposed, however, to 
have been in some measure instrumental in breaking up 
that ill-assorted and inefficient administration ; and, on the 
Duke of WelUngton forming the succeeding government. 
Lord Lyndhurst retained his office. In the various vacil- 
lating though useful concessions of that ministry, he bore 
a prominent part. In 1828 he supported the repeal of the 
Test and Corporation Acts, in opposition to Lord Eklon. 
In the same year, he opposed Roman Catholic emancipa- 
tion ; but in the following year he, with the rest of the 
ministry, supported a fidl and ample measure of emancipa- 
tion, declaring that he "felt no apprehension for the safety 
of the Church." 

Lord Lyndhurst's official career was marked by few ora- 
torical displays. He introduced and carried some useful 
measures of Law Reform ; but was defeated in his attempt 
to create an additional chancery judge. On the fifteenth 
of November, 1830, (the very day on which the decision 
on Sir Henry Parnell's motion on the Civil List gave the 
muiistry, of which he was a member, its mortal blow,) he 



176 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. 

introduced a bill for regulating the Regency, in case of the 
demise of the king during the minority of his successor. 
This biU was adopted and carried by Lord Grey; and it is 
a singular proof of the soundness of this bill, of the skiU 
with which it had been prepared, and of the very full and 
lucid manner in which its provisions were explained by 
Lord Lyndhurst, that after this speech not the slightest 
discussion took place on either the principle or the details 
of an arrangement, which had never before been settled 
without prolonged debate and the fiercest strife of parties. 

Having been bred to the common-law bar, it was some 
time before Lord Lyndhurst attained a perfect knowledge 
of that particular branch of law which he was called upon 
to administer in the Court of Chancery ; and in spite of 
his vigor of intellect, his fairness of mind, and his natural 
acuteness, he certainly did not establish for himself so high 
a judicial character as he has since obtained. Lord Lynd- 
hurst retired from office with the Duke of Wellington in 
November, 1830 ; but he had so far conciliated the respect 
and esteem of the liberal party that he was made by 
them, shortly after their accession to power. Chief Baron 
of the Exchequer; and it was in this post that he earned 
that high reputation as a judge which he has ever since 
ret<ained. Overcoming his natural tendency to indolence, 
he won his way with the bar by his uniform courtesy and 
fliirness, and with the public by his integrity and imparti- 
ality. Decided and self-reliant almost to a fault, his great 
qualities were exhibited to advantage in guiding the pro- 
ceedings of the court over which he presided ; and the ef- 
ficiency of his administration of justice is proved by the 
fact that, durmg his tenure of the judicial dignity, the 
Court of Exchequer, from having comparatively little busi- 
ness to transact, became the most busily occupied of all, 
and its decisions were considered of greater weight than 
those of the King's Bench itself 

Whilst presiding in the Exchequer, from 1831 to 1834, 



LORD LYNDHURST. 177 

Lord Lyiiclhurst took little oi' no p.art in the proceedings 
of the Upper House except upon the mtroduction of the 
Reform Bill, to which he offered a very strenuous and per- 
severing opposition. His able sjjeech against the second 
reading of the bill placed him at the head of the Conser- 
vative party in the House of Lords. On the seventh of 
May, 1832, he proposed and carried a postponement of the 
clauses which disfranchised the rotten boroughs. The min- 
istry of Earl Grey resigned office ; and the formation of a 
new ministry, on Tory principles, was actually proposed to 
Lord Lyndhurst, and accepted by him, in conjimction with 
the Duke of Wellington, but speedily abandoned on ac- 
count of the refusal of Sir Robert Peel and other moderate 
Conservatives to lend him their cooperation. Accordingly 
Earl Grey resumed office, and the Reform Bill passed into 
law. 

During the next three years Lord Lyndhurst took little 
or no part in any questions except those of a legal and 
technical nature. He carried a bill for settling the litiga- 
tions arising out of the will of Mr. Thellusson, and lent his 
aid to the defeat of Lord Brougham's bill for the establish- 
ment of local courts. In November, 1834, Lord Melbourne's 
resignation of office occurred, and Lord Lyndhurst accepted 
the Great Seal under the brief administration of Sir Robert 
Peel which followed ; but his official career during these 
months is in no way distinguishable from that of the min- 
istry of which he was a member. The struggle between 
the contending parties was chiefly in the House of Com- 
mons, and Lord Lyndhurst found little exercise for his 
abilities in the Lords. On the retirement of his party, 
however, he devoted his entire energies to pohtics, with 
the exception of a rare attendance to his judicial duties in 
the House of Peers and the Privy Council. In the latter 
part of the session of 1835, he took the lead in opposing 
the Bill for the Reform of Municipal Corporations, and suc- 
ceeded in inducing the House of Lords to insert in it cer- 

23 



178 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. 

tain amendments which were thought to be fatal to the 
bill. Experience proved that Lord Lyndhurst and his party 
had not calculated correctly; for the amendments, when 
adopted, rendered it more hurtful to the Tory party than 
it would have been in its original form. In the following 
year he took up a stiU more marked position in the House 
of Lords, whom he stimulated, while in opposition, to adopt 
a less conciliatory course than that which approved itself 
to moderate partisans such as Sir Robert Peel and the 
Duke of Wellington. At the same time he commenced the 
plan of delivering at the end of each parliamentary session 
a speech in which he gave a resume of its proceedings, ac- 
com23anied by a sarcastic and withering commentary on the 
smallness of ministerial results. During this time he also 
gained considerable notoriety by his keen attacks on the 
Roman Catholics of Ireland, whom he designated as "aliens 
in blood, in language, and in religion." 

Upon the accession of Sir Robert Peel to power in 1841, 
Lord Lyndhurst for the third time undertook the duties of 
the chancellorship, which he held until the dissolution of 
the Conservative party, and the retirement of Sir Robert 
Peel in 1846. He has continued down to the present time 
to take an occasional part in the debates of the House of 
Lords. He warmly and cordially supported the ministry 
of the Earl of Derljy in 1852, and since that time advo- 
cated the midertaking of the war with Russia, and in some 
speeches which jiroduced a profound unpression throughout 
the country, counselled perseverance in carrying it to a 
successful issue. When peace was made at Paris in March, 
1856, he denoimced the policy adojited by Lord Clarendon 
as a practical capitulation on the part of England. He 
was, and, in spite of the infirmities of age, he still is, one 
of the most efiective of parliamentary speakers in either 
house. His style of oratory is captivating in the extreme, 
being classical and severely simple, owing much of its 
charm to the very absence of ornament, though all his 



LORD LYNDHURST. 179 

speeches show marks of careful preparation. His voice is one 
of the most beautiful, and his articulation perfect, being dis- 
tinct and melodious, without the least appearance of effort, 
and with a clear and silvery tone which gains the ear by 
the manner, even if the reason is not always satisfied with 
the matter of his speeches. His allusions to classical litera- 
ture, which are not unfrequent, are always in good taste 
and appUcable to the subject ; and the structure of his sen- 
tences is so correct and elegant that it is said they might 
be printed straight from his lips ■without needing correc- 
tion. His speeches on the Camljridge University Eeform, 
delivered in 1855, those on the Wensleydale Peerage in 
February, 1856, and others stUl more recently dehvered on 
the state of Italy, and on moving the Oath of Abjuration 
Bdl, may be ranked among the highest of oratorical dis- 
plays. As speaker of the House of Lords he was remark- 
able for an easy carelessness and a disregard of the formal- 
ities of his position, which showed in him an indifference 
to ceremony not frequently found in those who have risen 
to the peerage fi'om the ranks of the people. 




\R K ® B E [K T F' 



SIR ROBERT PEEL. 



Sir Robert Peel was born on February 5, 1788. His 
father, the first baronet of the name, was a celebrated 
manufacturer, whose successful career was intunately con- 
nected with the development of the industrial energies of 
Britain during the great European war. The elder Peel 
left a princely fortune to be inherited by his distinguished 
son; and there is no doubt that the peculiar position m 
which he was placed had much influence on the mind 
of the statesman. In wealth and rank he was nominally 
among the aristocracy, and his own character was reserved 
and somewhat haughty. In the external movements of 
society he would feel his place a high one ; and the proud- 
est aristocracy were naturally ever willing to acknowledge 
a considerable position to the clever, rich, and highly edu- 
cated cotton-spinner's son. Yet he would have opportuni- 
ties of being conscious that he was not admitted within 
the sacred arena of the old feudal aristocratic families, 
whose generations had been intermarrying for centuries. 
His was a nature to see and feel this, while the history of 
his father's rise, and all the antecedents of his own greatr 
ness, would concur to throw his sympathies into the cause 
of progress and energy. He studied at Harrow and Ox- 
ford, where he early distinguished himself among the most 
brilliant men of his day. When just twenty-one years of 
age he entered Parliament as member for Cashel ; and 
thenceforth the sphere of his exertions and triumphs was 
the House of Commons, in the history of which his career 
will fonn a large feature. He was no orator, nor was he 



182 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. 

properly speaking a natural and simjile clel^ater. His man- 
ner was the artificial one of thorough training, but for an 
artificial manner it was a good one, and the house from 
his practice got to like it, though to a stranger it was 
generally unpleasant. He could state his case clearly and 
forcibly ; but he seldom liked to abandon a subject until he 
had discussed it at gi'eat length. He avoided in a marked 
manner the statement of general principles, as if he feared 
that he might afterwards have to say or do something in- 
consistent with them, and he generally made out his case 
on the details of the matter rather than on any wide rule 
or principle of political opinion. At the beginning of liis 
jjarliamentary career he was appointed to serve on Horner's 
JjuUion committee ; and the peculiarities of his mind were 
then distinctly remarked. It was seen that he went into 
the inquiry with opinions totally unformed ; that he pro- 
ceeded with the examination systematically and calmly, as 
if it had related to some philosophical question about the 
composition of metals; but that after having formed his 
opinions, he deemed it his function and duty to carry them 
resolutely into practice. In 1811 he was made Under Sec- 
retary for the Colonies, and in 1812, while only twenty- 
four, he received the very responsible appointment of Chief 
Secretary for Ireland. After carrying his celebrated cur- 
rency measure of 1819, he became in 1822 Home Secre- 
tary. Refusing to take office under Canning, he joined the 
ministry of the Duke of Wellington in 1828. Here by 
conceduig Catholic emancipation, against which he had pre- 
viously protested, he did one of those acts which have 
been called tergiversation by some, and the result of hon- 
est conviction, rising above original prepossession, by others. 
He still, however, professed to belong to the Conservative 
party, and he became a strenuous opponent of Earl Grey's 
ministry and the Eeform Bill. When a Conservative gov- 
ernment was, from mere accidental and personal causes not 
well explained, established in 1834, he gallantly undertook 



SIR ROBERT PEEL. 183 

the attempt to work it, tliongh conscious that the task was 
hopeless. He became Prime Minister in 1S41 with better 
prospects. The position in which he was placed was that 
of the head of a protectionist government, established to 
defeat and suppress the Free-Trade party. As circumstances 
developed themselves in the few critical years from 1841 
to 1846, some indications of opinion created alarm among 
the thorough protectionists, and it was seen that the prune 
minister becoming convinced of the truth of free trade, was 
determined to carry its principles into practice. After a 
repeal of the corn laws and other measures in the same 
spirit, he resigned office to the party to whom his later 
opinions legitimately belonged, in the summer of 1846. 
He died on the second of July, 1850, of internal injuries 
caused hy a foil from a horse. While riding up past 
Buckingham Palace near Hyde-Park gate, his horse stum- 
bled and fell to the gi-ound, and rolling partly over upon 
Sir Robert while entangled in the stirrups of the saddle, 
mflicted internal injuries so severe that he survived but a 
few hours in nearly an unconscious state. The painful 
tidings spread rapidly through the city of Loudon and 
elsewhere. 

There was something extremely touching in the spon- 
taneous and imiversal feeling Avhicli was called forth by 
Sir Roliert Peel's short illness and almost sudden death. 
We have no doubt that the ceremonial inquiries of stran- 
gers and political opponents were not only dictated l)y 
kindly courtesy, but prompted by genuine anxiety and 
regret. The carriages which crowded the purlieus of 
Whitehall were filled alike ])y those who had honored him 
and those who had wronged him, or had complained of 
wrong at his hands. The bitterest spirit of party could 
scarcely create a difference of feeling at such a time ; and 
the hearty and unreserved sympathy which every public 
journal expressed, from the moment of the flital accident, 
represented not only the general sentiment of the country, 



184 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. 

but tlie shock which professed and practical pohticians uni- 
versally experienced on the suddeu removal from the arena 
of the great parliamentary leader. Yet it was still more 
interesting to observe the sensation which was created by 
the melancholy circumstances in those, who, being neither 
colleagues nor rivals, opponents nor followers, of the dying 
statesman, could never have regarded him with the pe- 
culiar interest which personal intei'course seldom fails to 
create, even where it has only served as the occasion for 
personal hostility and conflict. Thousands who never left 
their names at the door, or saw them recorded in the pa- 
pers, inquired anxiously for the latest intelligence. Scarcely 
a passenger went by without stopping to repeat the uni- 
versal question, or heard the discouraging answer without 
an expression or look of regret. Some hours after the 
announcement of the fatal result, groups of peojile stiU 
remained o2iposite the house of the deceased, looking at 
the sUent and empty waUs in which he had breathed his 
last. The bodily remains were within ; the last visitors 
had withdra-\vn ; no sight could be expected to attract or 
reward curiosity; the crowd was only brought and kept 
together by the natural and unconscious tendency to real- 
ize a feeling by connecting it with a visible locality as its 
home. Neither the shutters in shop-windows, nor the low- 
ered flags on the river, nor all the other becoming and 
customary symbols of general mourning, were more signifi- 
cant of the public consciousness of loss than these specta- 
tors collected in Whitehall Gardens to look on vacancy, 
while the pomps and vanities of a royal levee were invit- 
ing the gaze of idlers within a quarter of a mile. About 
the same hour the House of Commons adjourned in resj^ect 
to the memory of its chief, on the motion of his veteran 
opponent of more than thirty years. The earnestness and 
sincerity with which Mr. Hume declared that he could not 
express his feelings were more fitting to the occasion than 
any flight of eloquence. The speeches which were delivered 



SIR ROBERT PEEL. 185 

on the next day in both Houses of ParHament, the demon- 
strations of respect and sorrow which have been made by 
the chief provincial towns, and the comphments paid to 
the deceased statesman by the French Assembly, sufti- 
ciently record the unanimous estimation of Sir Robert 
Peel's services and public character. 

The Duke of Wellington, in a few broken sentences, in- 
terrupted by emotions which affect us very differently from 
those of softer and more susceptible natures, selected only 
one quality of his friend for praise, as that which had most 
strongly mipressed him. " He always told the truth. I do 
not believe that, in the whole course of his life, he ever 
made an assertion which he did not believe to be the fact." 
Thus the straightforward, time-honored soldier speaks of 
the much reviled '' Traitor of Tamworth ; " not in accord- 
ance, perhaps, with common opinion, and to the surprise 
even of many admirers of the deceased. There was no 
charge more constantly brouglit against him by his oppo- 
nents than that of verbal sophistry and \\aLful obscurity of 
language. The subtlety which they denounced as cunning, 
the careful ambiguity which seemed a preparation for trim- 
ming, the reserve which sometimes covered itself with a 
cloud of phrases as a safer concealment than silence, were 
all rather excused than denied by his adherents, who could 
not themselves but sometimes smile at the balancing of 
reciprocally destroying negatives in his periods, and the 
safe and catholic generality of the truisms to which he 
publicly pledged himself " Poor Peel ! " said a great moral 
humorist once, "who so often acts the truth, and seems 
destined never to speak it." Once, when he was asked to 
explain his intentions as a landlord, he replied, that if a 
deserving tenant applied to him for a lease, he would not 
pledge himself to abstain fi'om hesitating long before he 
refused to take the proposal into consideration. At another 
time he informed the House of Commons, with the an* of 
a candid convert to a paradoxical novelty, that he must, 

24 



186 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. 

whatever might be the consequences, express his belief that 
Louis Phihppe, then in the height of his prosperity, was 
the greatest monarch who had ruled over France — since 
tlie time of Napoleon. Nevertheless, we believe that the 
Duke of Wellington is as correct in his judgment as he is 
sincere in uttering it, and he at least "never made an as- 
sertion which he did not believe to be the fact." In his 
own case, he would probably have answered the inquiry as 
to the management of his estate, by an announcement that 
" the Field Marshal considered the question impertinent ; " 
and of Louis Philippe he would have said nothing, unless 
he had sometliing to say. 

Sir Robert Peel's qualifications as a speaker have, on the 
whole, been justly appreciated. He had little capacity for 
that elevated rhetoric wliich, like every other form of elo- 
quence, reached its perfection in Demosthenes ; but he had 
a quaUty for which the great Athenian orator was equally 
distinguished, — a thorough understanding of his audience, 
and a steady view to practical results. His voice was mu- 
sical and powerful, but his action was eminently ungraceful, 
and his perorations were sometimes more pompous than 
impressive : on the other hand, his arrangement of topics 
was admirably skilful, his memory unfailing, and his readi- 
ness as a debater seldom equalled. His playfulness was 
happier than is commonly sujiposed, and it was all the 
more cfiective from its general reference to the familiar 
conventionalities of Parliament. His transient allusions to 
individuals, his smiles and gestures and quotations, used to 
convulse the House with laughter, which seemed unac- 
countable when reported in the newspapers. The profes- 
sional nature of his jokes, perhaps, deprives him of some 
of the credit which he deserved. They served their pur- 
pose at the time ; and success is the best test of the rhe- 
torical fitness of humor, if not of its intrinsic value. It 
may be, also, that in Parliament, as in every private circle, 
there is as much genuine playfulness exercised m dealing 



SIR ROBERT PEEL. 187 

with ancient jests and accustomed associations, as in con- 
ceivina: the more recondite and startlino- combinations 
which are recognized as specimens of hmnor by the world 
at large. To the character of a wit, Sir Eobert Peel had 
no pretension. Not a single good saying remains to pre- 
serve the memory of the skilful banter which so often ex- 
cited the amusement of his hearers, and disturbed the com- 
posure of his adversaries. Nor do we anticipate that his 
speeches will survive him. Their chief merit consisted in 
their admirable titness to their immediate purpose. Where 
information was required, no statesman of his time was 
equally capable of supplying it, nor could any contem- 
porary orator adapt himself better to the temper of his 
audience ; but in style, the sole preservative of speeches 
or of writings, his rhetoric was altogether deficient. His 
greatness as a speaker must rest on the solid basis of suc- 
cess. For twenty years, among al>le reasoners and brilliant 
declaimers, some of them his superiors in almost every as- 
signable quality of an orator, he led the House with a 
recognized superiority to all parliamentary competitors, of 
which no example had been ofiered since the time of the 
elder Pitt. At the time when his power out of doors was 
greatest, he had still a special and pecuhar influence which 
was confined to the walls of the House of Commons ; and, 
even in the days of newspaper reporting, it is no incon- 
siderable proof of tact and skill in a speaker to convey 
impressions to his immediate hearers which are lost in the 
written record of his discourse. 

The circiunstances and personal demeanor of Sir Robert 
Peel were well calculated to strengthen his influence in the 
country. The recent elevation of his flxmily by manufac- 
turing prosperity, while it appealed to the sympathy of the 
most active and rising section of the political community, 
seemed to account for the untiring and business-like in- 
dustry of his haliits, and for his consummate familiarity 
with the mysteries of trade and of finance. A more real 



188 THE COURT OP ENGLAND. 

support,, however, was added by the possession of a princely 
fortune, administered in perfect accordance with the tastes 
and customs of Englishmen, and furnisliing him with the 
means of moving on an equal level with the most power- 
ful class of the aristocracy. If some of the body, in anger 
or in jealousy, confided to their sycophants their incurable 
distrust and dislike for the blood of the cotton-spinner, he 
was not the less suiTounded by the homage which rank 
in that country prudently pays to wealth and substantial 
power. The ablest living politician, born a millionnaire, was 
careful to present, in his own person, to his social equals, 
the type of the wealthy English gentleman of the nine- 
teenth centm-y. The first who ever took double honors at 
Oxford, he possessed the classical accomplishments which 
the traditions of his youth attriljuted to the statesmen of 
the past generation, perhaps in higher perfection than any 
of them. 

It is remarkable that the stage in Sir Robert Peel's life 
which Lord John Eussell selected for special mention and 
praise was that in which he formed and trained the new 
Conservative party, and at last established it in office. The 
safe working of the Reform Bill, in the opinion of its pro- 
poser, was mainly secured by the temperance and foresight 
of its most powerful opponent. In teaching his followers 
to act in the spirit of the new constitution, he saved them 
not only from the errors of reaction, but from the opposite 
dangers of popular irritation and alarm. His ancient ad- 
versary, long versed in party warfare, and in the anxious 
responsibilities of political leadership, is, perhaps, at the dis- 
tance of many years, the most competent jndge of the 
qualities which were displayed in that ten years' conflict. 
Lord John's thoughtful recognition of the greatness of his 
rival's merits in the portion of his career in which they 
were most formidable to himself, is as creditable to his 
sagacity of observation as to the generosity which has 
prompted every allusion he has made to the deceased, and 



SIR EGBERT PEEL. 189 

which has sought, in every becoming manner, to accumu- 
late honors on his tomb. 

We have no fear that history will fail to do justice to 
an honest and generally successful statesman. The emotion 
which has been occasioned by his death is honorable to 
the character of the country ; and to himself it constitutes 
a memorial so noJ^le and befitting a worthy ruler, — 

" That kings for such a tomb might wisli to die." 




HEBJmmSnSMmSTMFLEM'aTENTMW&MAEASSmJREmWORnmmYTOCHim- 
L/ITE GOJ/EHNOIi GENEHJIL OF CANADA ^ 



THE EARL OF ELGIN. 



As the noble Earl of Elgin has long filled high stations 
of honor and responsibility on both sides of the Atlantic, 
and now stands conspicuous before the world as her Majes- 
ty's ambassador to China on a mission of great importance 
to the British government, we take pleasure in embellish- 
ing tliis work with a beautiful portrait and striking like- 
ness of this renowned nobleman. In doing this, we hope 
to please and gratify his many personal friends in the 
United States, and especially in Canada, over which he 
was so long the popular Governor-General. We hope our 
Canada friends will regard this portrait of the Earl of 
Elgin as a tribute of respect to them, and our desire to 
gratify their wishes, if this shall meet their approbation. 
We subjoin a biographical sketch to add interest to the 
portrait. 

The Eight Honorable the Earl of Elgin and Kincardine 
is a descendant of the Scottish royal family of Bruce. 
Genealogical writers trace the lineage of this noble stock 
to a period nearly a thousand years back. Among the 
comparatively recent members of the family, to whom 
the present representative is indebted for the honors and 
estates he inherits, there are one or two who may be 
mentioned. We learn from Sir Bernard Burke's mvaluable 
"Peerage" that Sir Edward Bruce of Kinloss was appointed 
a Lord of the Session in 1597, and, in company with the 
Earl of Mar, was accredited by James VI. to the Court 
of Elizabeth, to congratulate her Majesty upon the sup- 
pression of Essex's rebeUion. He then placed the affairs 



192 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. 

of his royal master in such a train with Secretary Cecil as 
to pave the way for the peaceable succession of the Scot- 
tish monarch to the English throne. Upon his return, in 
February, 1602, he was created a Peer of Scotland, as 
Baron Bruce of Kinloss, in the county of Elgin. Accom- 
panying King James into England, on his accession, he 
was sworn a member of the new monarch's Privy Council, 
and constituted Master of the EoUs for life. The successor 
to this nobleman was killed in a duel with Sir Edward 
Sackville, when the family honors passed to Thomas, third 
Baron, who was advanced to an earldom, June 21, 1633, 
as Earl of Elgin ; he was further advanced to the dig- 
nity of an English peerage in 1610, as Baron Bruce of 
Whorlton, comity of York. The next earl achieved addi- 
tional dignities by his loyalty to the Charleses, having been 
created, in March, 1664, Baron Bruce of Skelton, county 
of York, Viscount Bruce of Ampthill, county of Bedford, 
and Earl of Aylesljury. In the mean time, one of the 
junior branches of the family attained a peerage as Baron 
Bruce of Torrey and Earl of Kincardine, which dignity 
subsequently became incorporated with that of Elgin. The 
joint title of Earl of Elgin and Kincardine was assumed 
by Charles Bruce, ninth Earl of Kincardine, on the death 
of the fourth Earl of Elgin without sm'viving male issue. 
The father of the present peer was born in 1777, and 
achieved considerable distinction in the diplomatic service. 
He fulfilled the duties of Envoy to Brussels, in 1792, and 
accompanied the Prussian army during its operations in 
Germany, in the following year. In 1795 he was ap- 
pointed Envoy Extraordmary at Berlin, and in 1799 he 
went to Constantinople as ambassador. While in Turkey, 
he conceived the idea of sending to England a variety of 
valuable records of art from Athens. He sought the assist- 
ance of the government, but without success. But he was 
not discouraged; engaging six artists at his own expense, 
he sent them to Athens, in August, 1800, where they 



THE EARL OF ELGIN. 193 

■secured a lai'ge number of casts, monuments, statues, l)ass- 
reliefs, medals, and fragments of architecture, of the best 
age of Athenian art. They were brought over to England, 
and purchased by the government for the British Museum, 
where they were deposited in 1816. They are well kno's\Ti 
by the name of the "Elgin Marbles." 

The present Earl was born in Park Lane, London, in the 
month of July, 1811. He was educated at Christ Church, 
Oxford, where he attained a distinguished position among 
many scholars who afterwards achieved celebrity in art, 
literatui'e, and science. He won first-class honors in classics 
in 1832; Ijecame a Fellow of Merton College and grad- 
uated Master of Arts in 1835. The fui'ther distinction of 
D. C. L. was conferred upon him in the year 1856. Before 
succeeding to the earldom, and at the general election of 
1841, the yovmg nobleman offered himself to the citizens 
of Southampton for election to the House of Commons as 
their rejiresentative. He Avas duly returned M. P. for that 
city, and took part in the debates which led to a change 
of government in the autumnal session of that year ; but 
his father, the seventh Earl of Elgin and Kincardine, hav- 
ing died before Parliament assembled for the despatch of 
business, in 1842, his lordshijD did not again take his seat 
in the House of Commons. 

In March, 1842, his loixlship accepted the appointment 
of Governor-General of Jamaica, and went out immediately 
afterwards to assume the duties of that important position. 
He became very popular in the island, and retained the 
governor-generalship until August, 1846, when he resigned 
in consequence of having received an ofler from the ad- 
mmistration of Lord John Russell to succeed Earl Cathcart 
in the government of Canada. Towards the close of Sep- 
tember, 1846, Lord Elgin undertook the functions, of Gov- 
ernor and Captain -General of Canada, vnth a salary of 
seven thousand pounds per annum. As in Jamaica, his 
lordship achieved a general popularity among those he 

25 



194 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. 

governed. He won the respect of the Canadians not only 
by his neutral and dignified bearing in reference to various 
political questions from time to time in fierce agitation, 
but by his zealous exertions to promote the agricultural, 
commercial, and manufacturing interests of the province. 
He carried out the princijiles of administi^ation recom- 
mended by the late Earl of Durham, by cherishing a rep- 
resentative system and self-government ; and succeeded in 
converting into loyal subjects large classes in Canada -which 
Avere jjreviously disaffected. This diplomatic achievement 
increased his popularity not only in Canada, liut l)eyond 
the frontier ; and ovations were oftered to him by the 
citizens of adjacent States. He oljtained an accession of 
jjopularity ))y his successful negotiation of the treaty for 
reciprocity of trade between British America and the 
United States. 

During the absence of Lord Elgin in Canada, the home 
government conferred upon him the dignity of an English 
peerage, in acknowledgment of his eminent diplomatic ser- 
vices. On his return to England in 1854, his Lordship 
was received in a very flattering manner by the govern- 
ment, and by the public generally. A grand banquet in 
his honor was given soon after his arrival, which was at- 
tended by jjeers and members of Parliament of all shades 
of political opinion. Li the autumn of the same year the 
Earl of Elgin was nominated to the Loi'd- Lieutenancy of 
Fifeshire. 

The unexpected renewal, in 1857, of difficulties on the 
coast of China afforded another field for the exercise of 
the noble earl's diplomatic abilities. He was selected by 
the government of Lord Palmerston to proceed as High 
Commissioner and Plenipotentiary on a special mission to 
the Court of Pekin, wdth power to settle the controversy. 
This embassy he conducted with consummate ability and 
with complete success. Arriving in the Chinese seas, his 
lordship found the British forces engaged in an undigni- 



THE EARL OF ELGIN. 195 

fied conflict with Commissioner Yoh, whose pohcy it was 
to oppose generally a passive, and, in some instances, an 
active resistance to the representatives of this country. 
Much had to be done. The position of affairs at the mo- 
ment of Lord Elgin's arrival was deploraljle. To quote the 
" Times," " The great plains of Eastern Asia were almost 
closed against our commerce ; and the vast population which 
tilled those plains entertained towards us feeUngs of pro- 
found hostility, and even of horror. A great empire which 
we could not leave unvisited, because we depend upon it 
for one of the first necessaries of our artificial life, and be- 
cause we had long sought to find in it a market for our 
own industry, had expelled us from its principal port, and 
liad almost shut us up, blockaded in the single island we 
possessed upon its borders. Our factories were destroyed 
and our commercial relations were mterrupted, "We could 
not show ourselves anywhere upon the coast beyond the 
distance commanded by our guns ; and our fellow-citizens 
were miu'dered like wild beasts, if they ventured to land 
in pursuit of the most peaceful objects of commercial traf- 
fic. A price was set upon our heads ; and the court-yards 
round which were ran<!:ed the liorrible cao-es at Canton 
echoed with the groans of Europeans. Partial and ineffec- 
tual bombardments had stimulated hatred without creating 
a wholesome conviction of our power; and the Chinese 
government still believed that they could afford to treat 
us at once Avith cruelty and contumely." 

Lord Elgin's first endeavor was to arrange the difficulty 
in an amicable manner. He attempted to obtain those 
temporal concessions which would guarantee respect to the 
British flag and msure peaceful commercial relations with 
China for the future. Not succeeding in this undertaking, 
and not even obtaining the courtesies usual among the 
representatives of civilized nations, his lordship at length 
adopted that vigorous policy which alone remained. He 
made an attack upon Canton, and subsequently advanced 



106 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. 

i\\) the Eivor Peilio towards the seat of tlie Chinese gov- 
ernment, with the determination of exacting by force the 
concessions which he fomid himself unable to secure by 
diplomacy; exhibiting throughout firmness of purpose and 
unswerving resolution, he ultimately negotiated the cele- 
brated treaty of Tien-tsin. 

While in the East, his lordship) visited India and Japan. 
In India he afibrded valuable assistance at the crisis of the 
rebellion ; and in Japan he negotiated a treaty of an im- 
portant character, which considerably increased our influ- 
ence in that comparatively unknoA\m country, and opened 
a wide field of commercial enterprise to the British mer- 
chant. 

On the twenty-second of April, 1841, the noble Earl 
married Elizabeth Mary, only daughter of Charles Lennox 
Gumming Bruce, Esq., M. P. This lady having died in 
1843, his lordship married secondly Lady Mary Louisa, 
eldest surviving daughter of the late Earl of Durham, by 
whom he has a family of four sons. The eldest, Victor 
Alexander, Lord Bruce, was born May IG, 1849. 



/ 




t-1 



n 



n 



ANNE BOLEYN AND HENRY VIH. 



Anne Boleyn was the daughter of Sir Thomas Boleyn, 
aftenvards Earl of Wihshire. Anne's mother was Lady 
Elizabeth Howard, daughter of the Duke of Norfolk. She 
was born ui the year 1507, and in her childhood accom- 
joanied Mary, the sister of Henry VIH., to France ; where 
she remained in the court of that queen and of her suc- 
cessor, the wife of Francis I., for many years. The time 
of her return from France is doubtful ; but Burnet j^laces 
it in 1527, when her father was sent in an embassy to 
France. At that tune she became a maid of honor to 
Queen Katharine, the wife of Henry VIII., and was receiv- 
ing the addresses of Lord Percy, the eldest son of the 
Duke of Northumberland. She appears to have quickly 
attracted the notice of the king, who in a letter to her in 
1528, alludes to his having been one whole year struck 
with the dart of love ; and her eno-aarement with Lord 
Percy was at this time broken off by the intervention 
of Wolsey, in whose household that nobleman had been 
brought up. Anne retired mto the country during the 
early part of Henry's process for a divorce from Katharine, 
but she kept up a correspondence by letters with him. In 
1529 she returned to court, and was known to be intended 
by Henry for his future queen. At the beginning of 1533, 
Henry married Anne Boleyn secretly in the presence of 
her uncle, the Duke of Norfolk, and of her father and 
mother. Doctor Eowlaud Lee, afterwards Bishop of Litch- 
field, performed the ceremony, about the twenty-fifth of 
January. It was not till the twenty-third of May foUow- 



198 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. 

ing that the nulUty of the King's previous marriage was 
declared by Cranmer, who five days afterwards confirmed 
that of Anne Boleyn ; and on the first of June Queen 
Anne was crowned with great pomp. On the thirteenth 
of the fohowing September the Princess Ehzabeth, after- 
wards queen, was born. 

Of the events of tlie queen's life during the two subse- 
quent years Uttle is known, except that she favored the 
Reformation and promoted the translation of the Biljle. 
Early in 1536, the affections of her husband were alien- 
ated from her and fixed upon Jane Seymour, daughter of 
Sir John Seymour, and one of the maids of honor to the 
queen. Some alleged imprudences were stretched into high 
treason. She was accused and tried. Two days after, she 
was condemned to death. Cranmer pronounced the nullity 
of her marriage. After her conviction her feehngs seem 
to have been absorbed in indignation at the baseness 
of her persecutors and anxiety for her own posthumous 
fame. On the nineteenth of May she was beheaded on the 
green before the Tower, denying her guilt, but speaking 
charitably of the King, no doubt with a view to protect 
her daughter from his vengeance. Her body was thrown 
into a common chest of elm-tree, used to put arrows in. 
What would else seem the apparently inexplicable hatred 
of Henry towards Queen Anne, is sufficiently explained by 
the fact that the day after her execution Henry married 
Jane Seymour. If Anne Boleyn was only remarkable as 
the victim of the lusts, the caprice, and the heartless self- 
ishness of Henry VIII., her history would be interesting as 
an illustration of the state of jurisprudence in her time, 
and of the temper of a King whose personal character ex- 
ercised more mfluence over the affairs of England than 
that of any of her kings since the Conqueror. But the 
name of Anne Boleyn is still more remarkable by her 
connection with the Reformation in England, of which, 
incidentally perhaps, she was the immediate cause. Henry 



ANNE BOLEYN AND HENRY VIII. 199 

VIII. could only obtain her hand by annullmg his previous 
marriage, and the refusal of the Pope to do this led to the 
severance of England from the Romish communion. Her 
character in this respect excited a fierce controversy, which 
three centuries have not exting-uished. 



SCENE IN THE ENGRAVING. 

The plate illustrates a historic incident in the lives of 
Henry VIII. and Anne Boleyn, of which the following ex- 
planation will add interest. By the skill of the artist the 
curtam of past centuries seems to be lifted so as to bring 
before the eye these personages so renowned in history. 
Thus Anne Boleyn had been absent at the French Court 
for several years, and during that period had bloomed into 
wondrous beauty of personal and mental atti^actions. On 
her return to England she at once became famed in all 
the circles of nobihty and fashion, for her personal worth 
and charms. King Henry soon made the discovery of her 
beauty and worth. His advances and efforts to gain her 
affections were at first repelled, which only added fuel to 
the flame of passion in the heart of Henry. It was at this 
point of time that a splendid farewell fete was given to the 
French ambassadors at Greenwich, May 5, 1527, and at the 
mask with which the midnight ball concluded the King 
gave a public mark of his preference for Anne Boleyn by 
selecting her for his partner. In the print the King is 
supposed to be givmg his hand to Anne Boleyn to lead 
her to the dance, and whispering some word of love in 
her ear, while the lady turns her head modestly away 
from the King's fond gaze. The musicians are seen in the 
orchestra above, striking up for the dance. The company 
around stand observant of the scene. 




'_ •■"^'i: SiKT.iLV-FJill.f 



:ci ly E E 1^ (E L] 2 ^411 E T fra „ 



QUEEN ELIZABETH. 



The accompanying print is a rare and remarkable por- 
trait of England's renowned Queen Elizabeth, or "England's 
Maiden Queen," as she preferred to be called. It is a fit- 
ting companion print to the portrait of Mary Queen of 
Scots. Both wei'e women of fame, filling large chapters in 
the history of England. These portraits well serve as illus- 
trations of their personal history, which can hardly fail to 
interest the reader. 

The costume and drapery of the Elizabeth portrait will 
strike the eye as curious and strange. The whole aspect 
is characteristic of the jjerson and the age in which she 
held a position so exalted and cons^iicuous. In an age 
which delighted in the pictorial riddles of inexliaustible al- 
legory, it is perhaps not very strange that she should have 
adojDted this mode of displaying such devices; still less 
that one of the vainest women in the world should have 
invented or accepted such as might attribute to herself the 
beneficence and splendor of the sun, the wisdom of the 
serpent, and the vigilance of the most acute and watchful 
organs of the hiunan frame. The serpent, the eyes and 
ears so curiously conspicuous upon her robe, as if looking 
and hstening, indicate assumptions of intelligence, such as 
we do not remember to have seen on any other portrait. 
Her wardrobe, at the time of her death, contained more 
than two thousand dresses, of the fashions of all countries, 
of all times, and of all contrivances that busy fancy could 
suggest. 

The portrait is taken from the collection of the most 

•2G 



202 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. 

noble the Marquis of Salisbury, at Hatfield, and is regarded 
as one of gi-eat value of this illustrious personage. Zuc- 
chero, the original painter of this portrait of Ehzabeth, had 
been employed in France by the Cardmal of Lorraine. 
From France he came over to England ra 1574, and while 
here painted several fine portraits, particularly one of 
Queen Elizabeth. " His stay was short," writes Walpole. 
" as he was offended with our religion." He went to 
Spain, and was employed by Philip H. to paint frescoes 
in the Escurial. 

We have given this brief sketch of the portrait, to which 
we add a brief outline of her hfe, as being all that our 
room will permit, and all that may be necessary, as most 
of our readers are doubtless familiar with her history. 

Elizabeth, Queen of England, was the daughter of Henry 
Vni., by his second wife, Anne Boleyn. She was born at 
Greenwich, the seventh of September, 1533. She was not 
three years old, therefore, when her mother was brought to 
the block m May, 1536. In 1535, a negotiation was en- 
tered into for the marriage of Ehzabeth to the Dulve of 
Angouleme, the third son of Francis I. of France ; but it 
was broken off before any agreement was come to. In 
1546 also, Henry projwsed to the Emperor Charles V., 
with the view of Isreaking off a match then contemplated 
between the Emperor's son, the Prince of Spain, afterAvards 
Philip II., with a daughter of the French King, that Philip 
should marry the Princess Elizabeth; but neither alliance 
took place. In 1550, in the reign of Edward VI., it was 
proposed that Ehzabeth should be married to the eldest 
son of Christian HI. of Denmark ; but the negotiation 
seems to have been stopped by her refusal to consent to 
the match. 

Camden gives the following accoimt of the situation and 
employments of Elizabeth at this period of her life, in the 
introduction to his history of her reign. "She was both," 
he says, "in great grace and favor with King Edward, her 



QUEEN ELIZABETH. 203 

brother, as likewise in singular esteem with the nobility 
and people ; for she was of admirable beauty, and well de- 
serving a crown, of a modest gravity, excellent wit, royal 
soul, happy memory, and iudefatigably given to the study 
of learning; insomuch, as before she was seventeen years 
of age she understood well the Latin, French, and Italian 
tongues, and had an indifferent knowledge of the Greek. 
Neither did she neglect music, so far as it became a prin- 
cess, being able to sing sweetly, and play handsomely on 
the lute. With Roger Ascham, who was her tutor, she 
read over Melancthon's " Common-Places," all Tully, a great 
part of the histories of Titus Livius, certain select orations 
of Isocrates, Sophocles's Tragedies, and the New Testament 
in Greek, etc." 

On the death of Edward, Camden says, that an at- 
tempt was made by Dudley to induce Elizabeth to resign 
her title to the crown for a sum of money, and certain 
lands to be settled on her : her reply was, " that her elder 
sister, the Lady Mary, was first to be agreed withal ; for 
as long as the said Lady Mary lived, she, for her part, 
could challenge no right at all." At Mary's coronation, in 
October, 1553, according to Holinshed, as the Queen rode 
through the city towards Westminster, the chariot in which 
she sat was followed by another "having a covering of 
cloth of silver, all white, and six horses trapped with the 
like, wherein sat the Lady Elizabeth and the Lady Anne 
of Cleve." 

From this time Elizabeth, who had been brought up in 
their religion, became the hope of the Protestant party. 
Her position, however, was one of great difficulty. At first 
she refused to attend her sister to mass, endeavoring to 
soothe Mary by appealing to her compassion ; after some 
time, however, she yielded an outward compliance. The 
death of Mary took place on the seventeenth of November, 
1558. Elizabeth came to London on Wednesday, the twen- 
ty-third; she was met by aU the bishops in a body at 



204 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. 

Highgate, and escorted by an immense mnltitude of people 
of all ranks to the metropolis, where she took up her lodg- 
ings at the residence of Lord North, in the Charter House. 
On the afternoon of Monday, the twenty-eighth, she made 
a progress through the city in a chariot to the ro^^al 
palace of the Tower. 

Elizabeth was twenty-five years of age when she came 
to the throne ; and one of her earliest acts of royalty, by 
which, as Camden remarks, she gave joroof of a prudence 
above her years, was what we should now call the appoints 
ment of her ministers. Cecil became Lord High Treasurer, 
on the death of the Marquis of Winchester in 1572, and 
continued to be Elizabeth's principal adviser tUl his death 
in 1598. Of the other pei'sous who served as ministers 
during Ehzabeth's long reign, Ijy far the most worthy of 
note was Sir Francis Walsingham, who was principal Secre- 
tary of State from 1573 till his death in 1590, and was, 
all the time they were in office together, the confidential 
friend and chief assistant of Cecil the Premier. 

The afi'air to which Elizabeth first ajaplied her attention 
on coming to the throne, and that in connection with 
which all the transactions of her reign must be viewed, 
was the settlement of the national religion. The opinions 
of Cecil strongly concurred with her own in favor of the 
reformed doctrines, to which also undoubtedly the great 
mass of the people were attached. The Protestants alike 
in Scotland, in France, and in the Netherlands, (then sub- 
ject to the dominion of Philip,) regarded Elizabeth as 
firmly bound to their cause by her own interests ; and she 
on her part kept a watchful eye on the religious and po- 
litical contentions of all these countries, with a view to the 
maintenance and support of the Protestant party, ]jy every 
species of countenance and aid short of actually making 
war in their behalf With the Protestant government in 
Scotland, which had deposed and imprisoned the Queen, 
she was in open and intimate alliance ; in favor of the 



QUEEN ELIZABETH. 205 

French Huguenots she at one time negotiated oi' threat- 
ened, at another even went the length, scarcely with any 
concealment, of affording them pecuniary assistance ; and 
when the people of the Netherlands at length rose in re- 
volt against the oppressive government of Philip, although 
she refused the sovereignty of their country, which they 
offered to her, she lent them money, and in various other 
ways openly expressed her sympathy and good-will. 

The Queen of Scots was put to death in 1587, by an act 
of which it is easier to defend the state policy than either 
the justice or the legality. Elizabeth died on the twenty- 
fourth of March, 1603, in the seventieth year of her age 
and the forty-fifth of her reign. One of the first requests 
addressed to her by the Parliament after she came to the 
throne was, that she would marry ; liut for reasons which 
were probably various, though with regard to their precise 
nature we are rather left to speculation and conjecture 
than possessed of any satisfactory information, she per- 
sisted in remaining single to the end of her days. Yet 
she coquetted with many suitors almost to the last. In 
1571, proposals were made by Catherine de Medici for a 
marriage between Elizabeth and her son Charles IX., and 
afterwards in succession with her two younger sons, Henry, 
Duke of Anjou, (afterwards Henri HI.,) and Francis, Duke 
of Alen^on, (afterwards Duke of Anjou.) The last match 
was again strongly pressed some years after; and in 1581 
the arrangement for it had been all but brought to a con- 
clusion, when, at the last moment, Elizabeth drew back, 
declining to sign the marriage articles, after she had taken 
up the pen for the purjiose. Very soon after the death of 
Leicester, the young Robert Devereux, Earl of Essex, whose 
mother Leicester had married, was taken into the same 
favor that had been so long enjoyed by the deceased 
nobleman ; and his tenure of the royal partiality lasted, 
with some intermissions, till he destroyed himself by his 
own hot-headedness and violence. He was executed for a 



206 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. 

frantic attempt to excite an insurrection against the gov- 
ernment in 1601. Elizabeth, however, never recovered 
from this shock ; and she may be said to have sealed her 
own sentence of death in signing the death-warrant of 
Essex. 

Both the personal character of Elizabeth and the char- 
acter of her government have been estimated very differ- 
ently by writers of opposite parties. That she had great 
qualities will hardly be disputed by any one who duly re- 
flects on the difficulties of the position she occupied, the 
consummate policy and success with which she directed 
her course through the dangers that beset her on all sides, 
the courage and strength of heart that never failed her, 
the imposing attitude she maintamed in the eyes of for- 
eign nations, and the admiration and pride of which she 
Avas the object at home. She was undeniably endowed 
with great good sense, and with a true feeling of what 
became her place. The weaknesses, and also the more for- 
bidding features of her character, on the other hand, are 
so obvious as scarcely to require to be specified. 

Her literary knowledge was certainly very considerable ; 
but of her compositions (a few of which are in verse) none 
are of much value, nor evidence any very superior ability, 
with the exception perhaps of some of her speeches to the 
Parliament. A list of the pieces attributed to her may be 
found in Walpole's "Royal and Noble Authors." 

Her reign, take it all in all, was a happy as well as a 
glorious one for England. The kingdom vmder her govern- 
ment acquired and maintained a higher and more influ- 
ential place among the States of Europe, principally by 
policy, than it had ever been raised to by the most suc- 
cessfid military exertions of former ages. Commerce flour- 
ished and made great advances, and wealth was much 
more extensively and rapidly diffiised among the body of 
the people than at any former period. It is the feeling of 
progress, rather than any degree of actual attainment, that 



QUEEN ELIZABETH. 207 

keeps a nation in spirits ; and this feeling everything con- 
spu'ed to keep alive in the hearts of the English in the 
age of Elizabeth ; even the remembrance of the stormy 
times of their fathers, from which they had escaped, lend- 
ing its aid to heighten the charm of the present calm. To 
these happy circumstances of the national condition was 
owing, above aU, and destined to survive all their other 
products, the rich native literature, more especially in 
poetry and the drama, which now rushed up, as if fi'om 
the tillage of a virgin soil, covering the land with its per- 
ennial fruit and flowers. Sj^enser and Shakspeare, Beau- 
mont and Fletcher, Ealeigh and Bacon, and many other 
eminently distinguished names, gained their earhest celeb- 
rity in the Ehzabethan age. 




r. nrjo/ZA/ sj/iiyar.-- 



#i pj rMQ] y E E M i F is c e T i 



MAKY, QUEEN OF SCOTS. 



HER PORTRAIT. 

This is a beautiful portrait-print of this world-renowned 
lady. Her name, her character, her misfortunes, her beauty, 
and accomplishments, her sad and terrible destiny, the tears 
on her cheek, and on her hand, seemingly almost as fresh 
as if they had just fallen from her weeping eyes, the near 
approach of the final hour, the night before her execution, 
will aWaken emotions of sympathy in the heart of the 
reader, and perhaps cause the crystal fomitains to spring 
aleak at the contemplation of that face and form which 
was once called to suffer such fearful a.2;onies of mind 
and body. 



o 



Mary Stuart, Queen of Scotland, was born on the sev- 
enth of December, 1542. She was the third chUd of King 
James V. of Scotland, by his wife Mary of Lorraine, 
daughter of the Duke of Guise, who had previously borne 
her husband two sons, both of whom died in infancy. A 
report prevailed that Mary too was not likely to live ; but 
being unswaddled by her nurse at the desire of her anx- 
ious mother, in presence of the English ambassadoi-, the 
latter wrote to his coux't that she was as goodly a child as 
he had seen of her aa-e. At the time of her birth her 
father lay sick in the palace of Falkland ; and in the 
course of a few days after he expired, at the early age of 
thirty, his death being hastened by distress of mind occa- 
sioned by the defeats which his nobles had sustained at 
Fala and Solway Moss. James was naturally a person of 

27 



210 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. 

considerable energy and vigor botli of mind and body, bnt 
previous to his death he fell into a state of listlessness and 
despondency, and after his decease it was found that he had 
made no provision for the care of the infant princess, or 
for the administration of the government. The ambitious 
Beatoun seized this opportunity, and producing a testament 
which he pretended was that of the late king, immediately 
assumed the ofhce and title of regent. The fraud was soon 
discovered ; but by the haste and imprudence of the regent 
Arran and Henry VIII. of England, who wished a marriage 
agreed to between his son and the young Queen, Beatoun 
regained his influence in the country ; and on the ninth 
of September, 1543, Mary was crowned by the archbishop, 
who was also immediately afterwards appointed Lord High 
Chancellor of the kingdom. He had even the address to 
win over the regent Arran to his views, both political and 
religious ; and thus the French or Roman Catholic party 
obtained the ascendancy. The first two years of Mnry's 
life were spent at Linlithgow, in the royal palace of which 
she was born ; she was then removed to Stirling Castle ; 
and when the disputes of parties in the country rendered 
this a somewhat dangerous residence, she was carried to 
Inchmahome, a sequestered island in the Lake of Monteith, 
where she remained about two years. In the mean time a 
treaty of marriage had been concluded between her and 
the Dauphin Francis ; and in the terms of the treaty it 
was resolved she should be sent into France to be educated 
at the French court, until the nuptials could be solemnized. 
Accordingly in the fifth year of her age she was taken to 
Dumbarton, where she was put on board the French fleet ; 
and setting sail towards the end of July, 1548, she was, 
after a tempestuous voyage, landed on the fourteenth of 
August at Brest, whence she proceeded by easy stages to 
the palace at St. Genname-en-Laye. 

Soon after her arrival at her destination, Mary was 
placed with the French king's own daughters in one of 



MARY, QUEEN OF SCOTS. 211 

the fii'st convents of the kingdom, where she made rapid 
jn'ogress m the acquisition of the hterature and accom- 
2)Hshments of the age. She did not however remain long 
in this situation, Iseing soon carried to the court, which, as 
Robertson observes, was one of the pohtest but most cor- 
rupt in Europe. Plere Mary became the envy of her sex, 
surpassing the most accomphshed in the elegance and 
fluency of her language, the grace and liveliness of her 
movements, and the charm of her Avhole manner and be- 
havior. The youthful Francis, to whom she was betrothed, 
and was soon to be united in wedlock, was about her own 
age, and they had been playmates from early 3'ears : there 
appears also to have grown up a mutual aftection between 
them ; but the Dauphin had little of her vivacity, and was 
altogether considerably her inferior both in mental endow- 
ments and personal appearance. The marriage, which took 
place on the twenty-fourth of April, 1558, was celebrated 
with great pomp, the vaulted roof of the catliedral ring- 
ing with the shouts and congratulations of the assembled 
midtitude. 

The solemnities being ovei', the married pair retired to 
one of their princely retreats for the summer ; but that 
season was hardly gone when, a vacancy having occurred 
on the throne of England by the death of Queen Mary, 
claims were put forth on behalf of the Queen of Scots 
through her grandmother, who was eldest daughter of King 
Henry VII. of England ; and notwithstanding that Elizabeth 
had ascended the throne, and was, like her sister Mary, 
(both daughters of King Henry VIII.,) queen both de facto 
and by the declaration of the Parhament of England, yet 
this claim for the Scottish princess was made and contin- 
ued to be urged with great pertinacity by her ambitious 
uncles the princes of Lorraine. On every occasion on 
which the Dauphin and Dauphiness a2)peared in jjublic, 
they were ostentatiously greeted as the King and Queen 
of England ; the English arms were engraved upon their 



212 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. 

jjlate, embroidered on their banners, and painted on their 
furniture ; and Mary's own favorite device at the time was, 
the two cro-wns of France and Scotland, with the motto 
" AUamque morutur^' meaning that of England. Henri II. 
died in July, 1559, and in September of the same year 
Francis was solemnly cro\vned at Eheims. Mary was now 
at the height of her splendor ; it was doomed however to 
be only of short continuance. In June, 1560, her mother 
died ; and in December of the same year, her husband, 
who had been wasting away for some months, expired. 
By this latter event Catherine de' Medici rose again into 
power in the French court, and Mary, who did not relish 
being second where she had been the first, immediately 
determined on quitting France and returning to her native 
country. The queen of England however interposed ; and 
as Mary would not abandon all claim to the English 
throne, refused to grant her a free passage. Mary not- 
withstanding resolved to go, and at length, after repeated 
delays, still lingermg on the soil where fortune had smiled 
upon her, she reached Calais. Here she bade adieu to her 
attendants, and sailed for Scotland ; but as long as the 
French coast remained in view, she continued involuntarily 
to exclaim, " Farewell, France ! Farewell, beloved coun- 
try ! " She landed at Leith on the nineteenth of August, 
15G1, in the nineteenth year of her age, and after an 
absence from Scotland of nearly thirteen years. She was 
now, in the language of Robertson, " a stranger to her 
subjects, without experience, without allies, and ahnost 
without a friend." 

A great change had taken place in Scotland smce Mary 
was last in the country. The Roman Catholic religion was 
then supreme ; and under the direction of Cardinal Beatoun 
the Romish clergy displayed a fierceness of intolerance 
which seemed to aim at nothing short of the utter extir- 
pation of every seed of dissent and reform. The same 
causes however which gave strength to the ecclesiastics 



MARY, QUEEN OF SCOTS. 213 

gave strength also, tliongli more slowly, to tlie great body 
of the peoj^le ; and at length, after the repeated losses of 
Flodden and Fala, and Solway Moss and Pmkey, — which, 
by the fall of nearly the whole lay nol^ility and leading 
men of the kingdom, brought all classes within the influ- 
ence of public events, — the energies, physical and mental, 
of the entire nation were drawn out, and under the guid- 
ance of the reformer Knox expended themselves with the 
fury of awakened indignation upon the whole fabric of the 
ancient religion. The work of destruction was just com- 
pleted, and the Presbyterian government established on the 
ruins of the Roman Catholic, when Mary returned to her 
native land. She knew little of all this, and had been 
taught in France to abhor Protestant opinions : her habits 
and sentiments were therefore utterly at variance with 
those of her subjects ; and, nurtured in the lap of ease, 
she was wholly unprepared for the shock which was inev- 
itably to result from her beuig thrown among them. 

Accordingly the very first Sunday after her arrival she 
commanded a solemn mass to be celebrated in the chapel 
of the palace ; and, as might have been expected, an up- 
roar ensued, the servants of the chapel were insulted and 
abused, and had not some of the lay nobility of the Prot^ 
estant party interposed, the riot might have become gen- 
eral. The next Sunday Knox preached a violent sermon 
against idolatry, and in his discourse he took occasion to 
say that a single mass was, in his estimation, more to be 
feared than ten thousand armed men. Upon this, Mary 
sent for the reformer, desiring to have an interview with 
him. The interview took place, as well as one or two sub- 
sequent ones from a like cause ; but the only result was to 
exhibit the parties more plainly at variance with each 
other. In one of these fruitless conferences the young 
Queen was bathed in tears before his stern rebukes. Her 
youth, however, her beauty and accomplishments, and her 
afiability, interested many in her favor; and as she had 



214 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. 

from the first continued the government in the hands of 
the Protestants, the general peace of the country remained 
unbroken. 

A remarkable proof of the popular favor with -which the 
young Queen was regarded, appeared in the circumstances 
attending her marriage with Darnley. Various proposals 
had been made to her from different quarters ; but at 
length she gave up all thoughts of a foreign alliance, and 
her affections became fixed on her cousin Henry Stuart, 
Lord Darnley, the youthful heir of the noble house of 
Lennox, to whom she was united on Sunday, the twenty- 
ninth of July, 15G5, the ceremony of marriage being per- 
formed in the chapel of Holyrood-house, according to the 
rites of the Romish Church. Whether the Queen had any 
right to choose a husband without consent of Parliament, 
was in that age, as Robertson observes, a matter of some 
dispute ; but that she had no right to confer u^^on him, by 
her private authority, the title and dignity of king, or by 
a simple proclamation invest him with the character of a 
sovereign, was beyond all doubt: yet so entirely did she 
possess the favorable regard of the nation, that notwith- 
standing the clamors of the malecontents, her conduct in 
this respect produced no symptom of general dissatisfaction. 
The Queen's marriage was, however, particularly obnoxious 
to Queen Ehzabeth, whose jealous eye had never been 
withdrawn from her rival. Knox also did not look favor- 
ably on it. Nevertheless the current of popular ojoinion 
ran decidedly in Mary's favor, and it was even remarked 
that the prosperous situation of her afKiirs began to work 
some change in favor of her religion. 

This popularity, however, was the result of adventitious 
circumstances only. There existed no real sympathy of 
opinion between Mary and the great body of her peojjle ; 
and wdiatever led to the manifestation of her religious sen- 
timents dissolved in the same degree the fascination which 
her youth and accomplishments had created. It is in this 



MARY, QUEEN OF SCOTS. 215 

way we_ may account for the assistance given to Darnley 
in the assassination of Rizzio, an attendant on Mary, who 
seems to have come in phice of Chatehxrd. The latter was 
a French poet who sailed in Mary's retinue when she came 
over from the continent ; and liaving gained the Queen's 
attention hy his poetical effusions, he proceeded, in the in- 
dulgence of a foolish attachment for her, to a holdness and 
audacity of behavior which demanded at last the interposi- 
tion of the law, and he was condemned and executed. Eizzio, 
a Piedmontese by birth, came to Edinburgh in the train of 
the ambassador from Savoy, a year or so before Chatelard's 
execution. He was skilled in music, had a polished and 
ready wit, and like Chatelard, wrote with ease in French 
and Italian. His first employment at court was in his 
character of a musician ; but Mary soon advanced him to 
be her French secretary ; and in this situation he was con- 
ceived to possess an mfluence over the Queen which was 
equally hateful to Darnley and the Reformers, though on 
very different grounds. Both, therefore, concurred in the 
destruction of the olsnoxious favorite, and he was assassi- 
nated accordingly. Darnley afterwards disclaimed all con- 
cern in the consjiiracy ; but it was plain the Queen did 
not believe, and would not Ibrgive, him ; and having but 
few qualities to secure her regard, her growing contempt 
of him terminated in disgust. In the mean time, the well- 
known Earl of Bothwell was rapidly advancing in the 
Queen's favor, and at length, in open defiance of all de- 
cency, no business was concluded, no grace bestowed, with- 
out his assent and participation. Meanwhile, also, Mary 
bore a son to Darnley; and after great preparations for the 
event, the baptism of the yoimg prince was performed ac- 
cording to the rites of the Romish Church. Darnley him- 
self was soon after seized with the small-pox, or some dan- 
gerous distemjDcr, the nature and cause of which are not 
very clear. He was at Glasgow when he was taken ill, 
having retired thither to his fxther somewhat hastily and 



21G THE COURT OF ENGLAND. 

unexpectedly. Mary was not witli him, nor did she visit 
him for a fortnight. After a short stay they returned to 
Edinburgh together, when Darnley was lodged, not in the 
palace of Holyrood, as heretofore, but in the house of the 
Kirk of Field, a mansion standing by itself in an oj^en and 
solitary part of the town. Ten days after, the house was 
blown up by gunpowder, and Darnley and his servants 
buried in the ruins. That Mary knew of the intended 
miu'der is not certain, and difibrent views of the circum- 
stances have been taken by different historians. The au- 
thor of the horrid deed was Bothwell, and the public voice 
was unanimous in his reprobation. Bothwell was brought 
before the privy-council for the crime ; but the shortness 
of the notice prevented Lennox, his accuser, from appear- 
ing. The trial nevertheless proceeded, or rather the ver- 
dict and sentence ; for, without a single witness being ex- 
amined, Bothwell was acquitted. After this mockery of a 
trial he was not only continued in all his influence and 
employments, but he actually attained the great end which 
he had in view by the perpetration of the foul act. This 
was no other than to luarry the Queen herself, which he 
did in three months after his murder of her husband ; hav- 
ing in the interval met the Queen, and carried her off a 
prisoner to his castle of Dunbar, and also raised a process 
of divorce against the Lady Bothwell, his wife, on the 
ground of consanguinity, and got a decree in the cause 
just nine days before the marriage. Before the marriage, 
also, Mary created Bothwell Duke of Orkney ; and the 
marriage itself was solemnized at Holyrood-house by Adam 
Bothwell, Bishop of Orkney, according to the forms both 
of the Romish and Protestant religions. 

Public indignation could no longer be restrained. The 
nobles rose against Bothwell and Mary, who fled before an 
armed and indignant people from fortress to fortress. At 
length, after they had collected some followers, a pitched 
battle near Carberry Hill was about to ensue, when Mary 



MARY, QUEEN OF SCOTS. 217 

abandoned Bothwell, and threw herself on the mercy of 
her subjects. They conducted her first to Edmburgh, and 
thence to the castle of Lochleven, where, as she still per- 
sisted to regard Bothwell as her husband, it was deter- 
mined she should at once abdicate in favor of the prince, 
her son James. Instruments of abdication to that eiFect 
were accordingly prepared, and she was at last constrained 
to affix her signature to them; upon which the prince was 
solemnly crowned at Stirling, twenty-ninth of July, 1567, 
when little more than a year old. Mary continued a pris- 
oner at Lochleven ; but by the aid of friends, in less than 
twelve months she efiected her escape, and collected a con- 
siderable army. The battle of Langside ensued, where she 
was completely routed ; upon which she fled towards Gal- 
loway, and thence jjassed into England. Elizaljeth refused 
her an audience, but declared her readiness to act as um- 
pire between her and her subjects. Mary would not yield 
to this, or consent to be regarded in any other light than 
as Queen of Scotland. The consequence was, that Elizabeth 
continued to detain Mary as a captive till the end of the 
year 1586, — a period of about nuieteen years, — when she 
was accused of being accessary to Babington's conspiracy 
against the queen of England. To try this accusation a 
commission was appointed by Elizabeth, but Mary at first 
refused in a very decided manner to acknowledge its juris- 
diction. Deluded, however, by the pretext that she would 
thus vindicate her character, Mary consented to be tried. 
'The commission accordingly proceeded : Mary was con- 
demned, and, on Wednesday, the eighth of February, 1587, 
beheaded at Fotheringay castle, in the forty-fifth year of 
her age. She died professing the religion in which she 
had been brought up, and to her adherence to which 
almost as much as to her own misconduct many of her 
miseries may be traced. 

In the interval between her trial and execution James 
made considerable efforts to save the life of his mother, 

28 



218 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. 

thougli it is said that liis ambassador to the English court 
was among the most urgent instigators of her execution ; 
and after her death James gave utterance to some loud 
denunciations of what he termed the insult that had been 
offered to him ; but he was easily pacified, and the amity 
previously existing between the English and Scottish courts 
remained unbroken. 



EXECUTION OF MARY STUART. 

The following graphic sketch will give a vivid impres- 
sion of the closing scene, viewed in connection with the 
f)ortrait. It is from the pen of M. de Lamartine, whose 
latest literary manner is strilvingly exemplified in his "Life 
of the Queen of Scots," written by him in English and 
pul^Ushed in London. It is admirably romantic, and in no 
part more so than in this description of the execution : — 

"She arrived in the hall of death. Pale, but unflinching, 
she contemplated the dismal preparations. There lay the 
block and the axe. There stood the executioner and his 
assistant. All were clothed in mourning. On the floor 
was scattered the sawdust which was to soak her blood, 
and m a dark corner lay the bier which was to be her 
last prison. It was nine o'clock when the Queen appeared 
in the funeral hall. Fletcher, Dean of Peterborough, and 
certain privileged persons, to the number of more than two 
hundred, were assembled. The hall was hung with black 
cloth ; the scaiFold, which was elevated about two feet and 
a half above the ground, was covered with black frieze of 
Lancaster ; the arm chair, in which Mary was to sit, the 
footstool on which she was to kneel, the block on which 
her head was to be laid, were covered with black velvet. 

"The Queen was clothed in mourning like the hall and 
as the ensigns of punishment. Her black velvet robe, with 
its high collar and hanging sleeves, was bordered with er- 
mine. Her mantle, lined with marten sable, was of satin, 



MARY, QUEEN OF SCOTS. 219 

with pearl buttons, and a long train. A chain of sweet- 
smelling beads, to which was attached a scapulary, and 
beneath that a golden cross, fell upon her bosom. Two 
rosaries were suspended to her girdle, and a long veil of 
white lace, which in some measure- softened this costume 
of a widow and of a condemned criminal, was thrown 
around her. 

"Arrived on the scaffold, Mary seated herself in the chair 
provided for her, with her flxce towards the spectators. 
The Dean of Peterborougli, in ecclesiastical costume, sat on 
the right of the Queen, with a black velvet footstool be- 
fore hun. The Earls of Kent and Shrewsbury were seated 
like him, on the right, but upon larger chairs. On the 
other side of the Queen stood the Sherifl' Andrews, with 
white wand. In front of Maiy were seen the executioner 
and his assistant, distmguishable by their vestments, of 
black velvet, with red crape round the left arm. Behind 
the Queen's chair, ranged by the wall, wept her attendants 
and maidens. In the body of tlie hall, the nobles and citi- 
zens from the neighboring counties were guarded by the 
musketeers of Sir Amyas Paulet and Sir Drew Drury. 
Beyond the balustrade was the bar of the tribunal. The 
sentence was read ; the Queen protested against it in the 
name of royalty and of innocence, but accepted death for 
the sake of her faith. She then knelt down before the 
block, and the executioner proceeded to remove her veil. 
She repelled him by a gesture, and turning towards the 
earls with a blush on her forehead, ' I am not accustomed,' 
she said, ' to be ux^dressed before so numerous a comj^any, 
and by the hands of such grooms of the chamber.' She 
then called Jane Kennedy and Elizabeth Curie, who took 
off her mantle, her veil, her chains, cross, and scapulary. 
On their touching her rol^e, the Queen told them to un- 
loose the corsage, and fold dovra the ermine collar, so as 
to leave her neck bare for the axe. Her maidens weeiD- 
ingly yielded her these last services. Melvil and the three 



220 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. 

other attendants wept and lamented, and Mary placed her 
finger on her lips to signify that they shonld be silent. 

" She then arranged the handkerchief embroidered with 
thistles of gold, with which her eyes had been covered by 
Jane Kennedy. Thrice she kissed the crucifix, each time 
repeating, ' Lord, into thy hands I commend my spirit.' 
She knelt anew, and leant her head on that block which 
was already scored with deep marks ; and in this solemn 
attitude she again recited some verses from the Psalms. 
The executioner interrupted her at the third verse l)y a 
blow of the axe, but its trembling stroke only grazed her 
neck ; she groaned slightly, and the second blow separated 
the head from the body. The executioner held it up at 
the window, within sight of all, proclaiming aloud, accord- 
mg to usage : ' So perish the enemies of our Queen ! ' " 

The Queen's maids of honor and attendants enshrouded 
the body, and claimed it, in order that it should be sent 
to France ; but these relics of their tenderness and faith 
were pitilessly refused. Elizal^eth having thus mercilessly 
sacrificed the life of her whom she had so long and so un- 
justly retained in hopeless captivity, now added the most 
flagrant duplicity to her cruelty. Denying, with many 
oaths, all intention of having her owm warrant carried into 
execution, she attempted to throw the entire odium on 
those who in reality had acted as her blind and devoted 
agents. This policy of the English Queen was unsuccess- 
ful, however ; posterity has with clear voice proclaimed her 
guilty of the blood of her roj'al sister, and the sanguinary 
stain will ever remain ineffaceable from the character of 
that otherwise great sovereign. 

If we regard Mary Stuart m the light of her charms, 
her talents, her magical mfluence over all men who ap- 
proached her, she may be called the Sappho of the six- 
teenth century. All that was not love in her soul was 
poetry ; her verses, like those of Eonsard, her worshipper 
and teachei', possess a Greek softness combined with a 



MARY, QUEEN OF SCOTS. 221 

quaint simplicity ; they are written with tears, and even 
after the lapse of so many years, retain something of the 
warmth of her sighs. 

If we judge her by her life, she is the Scottish Semira- 
mis ; casting herself, before the eyes of all Europe, into the 
arms of the assassin of her husband, and thus giving to 
the people she had thrown into civil war a coronation of 
murder for a lesson of morality. 

In fine, if she be judged by her death, — comj)arable in 
its majesty, its piety, and its courage, to the most heroic 
and the holiest sacrifices of the primitive martyrs, — the 
horror and aversion with which she had been regarded, 
change at last to pity, esteem, and admiration. As long 
as there was no expiation she remained a ci'iminal; by ex- 
piation she became a victim. In her history, blood seems 
to be washed out by blood ; the guilt of her former years 
flows, as it were, from her veins, with the crimson stream ; 
we do not absolve, we sympathize ; our pity is not absolu- 
tion, but rather approaches to love ; we try to find ex- 
cuses for her conduct in the ferocious and dissolute man- 
ners of the age ; in that education, depraved, sanguinary, 
and fanatical, which she received at the Court of the 
Valois ; in her youth, her beauty, her love. We are con- 
strained to say with M. Dargaud, — to whom we feel 
deeply indebted for the researches which have guided us, 
— "we judge not — we only relate." 

PERSONAL APPEARANCE OF MARY. 

That Mary possessed the " fatal gift " of incomparable 
jDcrsonal beauty is proved, not merely by the somewhat 
hyperbolical portraitures of contemporary poets, but by the 
universal testimony of history and tradition. Many por- 
traits of her, some of which are no doubt authentic, still 
exist, and these give us the impression of a lovely fiice, 
with aquiline, or rather Grecian nose, soft but firm mouth, 



222 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. 

full chin, expressive eyes under high-arched eyebrows — the 
whole countenance bearing an imjiress of combined dignity 
and sweetness. This impression is fully corroborated by 
poets and annalists of the time. The gallant and spirituel 
Brantome thus describes her : " Clad a la saiivage, in the 
barbaric dress of the wild people of her country, even 
then she appeared a goddess in a mortal body. And, the 
more to set the world on fire, [pour emhraser le monde,) she 
had the perfection of a most sweet and beautiful voice, 
and sang well, according her voice to the lute, which she 
touched spiritedly with those beautifully- shaped fingers, 
which were in no wise inferior to those of Aui'ora." Nor 
were her mental accomplishments inferior to her personal 
charms, for the gay writer thus jjroceeds : "At the age of 
fourteen she sustained a thesis publicly in the hall of the 
Louvre, and in Latin, maintaining that it was becoming in 
women to acquire learning, (think Avliat a rare and admi- 
ra1)le thmg this was !) and was more eloquent than if even 
France had been the country of her birth." 

M. Dargaud, in his excellent " Histoire de Ifarie Stuart," 
thus descril^es Mary's personal appearance at the age of 
nineteen : — 

" Her form was tall, flexible, animated, easy in every 
movement. Her forehead was high and rounded, giving 
her an air of lofty dignity, combined with mtelligence and 
courage ; her ears were small ; she had the aristocratic 
aquiline nose of the Guises, and her beautiful cheeks, in 
their mingled red and white, gave evidence of the mixed 
blood of Lorraine and Scotland ; her eyelashes were long, 
overshadowing brown eyes of a humid but passionate trans- 
parency, softened by finely traced and arched eyebrows; 
her smile was brilliant as a sunbeam ; her hair was fair, 
and often worn without oranament ; her face was oval, and 
her features mobile, — passing suddenly from an expression 
of severity to one of enjoyment, — the Graces dwelt there, 
and also resolute and deep passions ; her voice was sweet 



MARY, QUEEN OF SCOTS. 223 

and penetrating; her conversation full of vigor and imag- 
ination. Even ill Scotch tartan," adds our author, with par- 
donable nationality, " she was charming, but when dressed 
in the French, Spanish, or Italian fashion, she was ador- 
able ! " 

We shall only add one more panegyric, and from the 
pen of an English author — Carte — in whose " History of 
England " we find the following portrait of Mary in her 
later years, during her captivity : — 

" Every part of her body was so justly proportioned, and 
so exquisitely framed, that people, lost in admiration of 
each, were apt to imagine she was something more than 
human ; a majestic air, mixed with sweetness, sat upon 
her brow, and all the graces in nature consjiired to set off 
her person, adding to her matchless beauty a charm that 
was irresistible. Every motion, gesture, and action, accom- 
panied with a manner too dehcate to be described, struck 
all beholders, and every one was won by the sweetness of 
her nature, the afilibility of her reception, the obligingness 
of her carriage, and the charms of her conversation." 



LADY JANE GREY. 



Hume's version of the tragic history of Lady Jane Grey 
has ever been admired for the exquisite taste and grace 
of style it displays, as well as for its essential adherence 
to truth. It forms a fine accompaniment to the engrav- 
ing. 

The title of the Princess Mary, after the demise of her 
brother, was not exposed to any considerable difficulty ; 
and the objections started by the Lady Jane Grey's parti- 
sans were new and unheard of by the nation. Though all 
the Protestants, and even many of the Catholics, believed 
the marriage of Henry VHI. with Catharine of Arragon to 
be unlawful and invalid ; yet, as it had been contracted 
by the parties without any criminal intention, had been 
avowed by their parents, recognized by the nation, and 
seemingly founded on those principles of law and religion 
which then prevailed, few imagined that their issue ought 
on that account to be regarded as illegitimate. A declarar 
tion to that purpose had indeed been extorted from Parlia- 
ment by the usual violence and caprice of Henry; but as 
that monarch had afterward been mduced to restore his 
daughter to the right of succession, her title was now be- 
come as legal and parliamentary as it was ever esteemed 
just and natural. The public had long been familiarized to 
these sentiments : during all the reign of Edward, the 
princess was regarded as his lawful successor ; and though 
the Protestants dreaded the effects of her prejudices, the 
extreme hatred universally entertained against the Dudleys, 
who, men foresaw, would, under the name of Jane, be the 

29 



226 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. 

real sovereigns, was more than siifficient to connterhalance, 
even with that Jjarty, the attachment to rehgion. This last 
attempt to violate the order of succession had displayed 
Northumberland's ambition and injustice in a fidl light ; 
and when the people reflected on the long train of fraud, 
iniquity, and cruelty by which that project had been con- 
ducted ; that the lives of the two Seymours, as well as the 
title of the princesses, had been sacrificed to it ; they Avere 
moved by indignation to exert themselves in opposition 
to such criminal enterprises. The general veneration also 
paid to the memory of Henry VIII. j)rompted the nation 
to defend the rights of his posterity ; and the miseries of 
the ancient civil wars were not so entu'ely forgotten, that 
men were willing, by a departure from the lawful heir, to 
incur the dans-er of like bloodshed and confusion. 

Northumberland, sensible of the opposition which he must 
expect, had carefully concealed the destination made by 
the king ; and in order to bring the two princesses into 
his power, he had had the precaution to engage the coun- 
cil, before Edward's death, to write to them in that prince's 
name, desiring their attendance, on pretence that his infirm 
state of health required the assistance of their counsel and 
the consolation of their company. Edward expired before 
their arrival ; but Northumberland, in order to make the 
pi'incesses fall into the snare, kept the king's death still 
secret ; and the Lady Mary had already reached Hoddes- 
den, within half a day's journey of the court. Happily, 
the Earl of Arundel sent her private intelligence, both of 
her brother's death, and of the conspiracy formed against 
her ; she immediately made haste to retire ; and she ar- 
rived, by quick journeys, first at Kenning Hall in Norfolk, 
then at Framlingham in Suffolk ; where she purposed to 
embark and escape to Flanders, in case she should find it 
impossible to defend her right of succession. She wrote 
letters to the nobility and most considerable gentry in 
every county in England ; commanding them to assist her 



LADY JANE GREY. 227 

in the defence of her crown and person. And she de- 
spatched a message to the council, by which she notified 
to them, that her brother's death was no longer a secret 
to her, promised them pardon for j^i^ist offences, and re- 
quired them immediately to give orders for proclaiming 
her in London. 

Northumberland found that further dissimulation was 
fruitless; he went to Siou House, accompanied by the 
Duke of Suffolk, the Earl of Pembroke, and others of the 
nobility ; and he approached the Lady Jane, who resided 
there, with all the respect usually paid to the sovereign. 
Jane was in a great measure ignorant of these transac- 
tions ; and it was with equal grief and surprise that she 
received intelligence of them. She was a lady of an amia- 
ble person, an engaging disposition, accomplished parts ; 
and being of an equal age with the late king, she had 
received all her education with lum, and seemed even to 
possess greater facility in acquiring every part of manly 
and polite literature. Slie had attained a familiar knowl- 
edge of the Roman and Greek languages, besides modern 
tongues ; had passed most of her time in an application to 
learning; and expressed a great imhffei'ence for other occu- 
pations and amusements usual with her sex and station. 
Roger Ascham, tutor to the Lady Elizabeth, having one 
day paid her a visit, found her employed in reading Plato, 
while the rest of the family were engaged in a party of 
hunting in the park ; and on his admiring the singularity 
of her choice, she told him, that she received more pleas- 
ure from that author than the others could reap from all 
their sport and gayety. Her heart, full of this passion for 
hterature and the elegant arts, and of tenderness toward 
her husband, who was deserving of her affections, had 
never opened itself to the flattering allurements of ambi- 
tion ; and the intelligence of her elevation to the throne 
was nowise agreeable to her. She even refused to accept 
of the present; pleaded the preferable title of the two 



228 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. 

princesses ; expressed her dread of the consequences at- 
tending an enterprise so dangerous, not to say so criminal ; 
and desired to remain in the private station in which she 
was born. Overcome at last by the entreaties, rather than 
the reasons, of her lather and father-in-law, and above all 
of her husband, she submitted to their will, and was jjre- 
vaUed on to relinquish her own judgment. It was then 
usual for the kings of England, after their accession, to 
pass the first days in the Tower ; and Northimaberland im- 
mediately conveyed thither the new sovereign. AU the 
councillors were obliged to attend her to that fortress; 
and by this means became, in reality, prisoners in the 
hands of Northumberland, whose will they were necessi- 
tated to obey. Orders were given by the council to pro- 
claim Jane throughout the kingdom ; but these orders 
were executed only in London and the neighborhood. No 
applause ensued : the people heard the proclamation with 
silence and concern : some even expressed their scoi'n and 
contempt; and one Pot, a vintner's apprentice, was severely 
punished for this offence. The Protestant teachers thein- 
selves, who were employed to convince the people of Jane's 
title, found their eloquence fruitless ; and Ridley, Bishop of 
London, who jjreached a sermon to that purpose, wrought 
no effect upon his audience. 

The people of Suffolk, meanwhile, paid their attendance 
on Mary. As they were much attached to the reformed 
communion, they could not forbear, amidst their tenders of 
duty, expressing apprehensions for their religion ; but when 
she assured them that she never meant to change the laws 
of Edward, they enlisted themselves in her cause with zeal 
and affection. The nobility and gentry daily flocked to 
her, and brought her reinforcement. The Earls of Bath 
and Sussex, the eldest sons of Lord Wharton and Lord 
Mordaimt, Sir William Drury, Sir Henry Benningfield, Sir 
Henry Jernegan, persons whose interest lay in the neigh- 
borhood, appeared at the head of their tenants and retain- 



LADY JANE GREY. 229 

ers. Sir Edward Hastings, brotlier to the Earl of Hunting- 
don, having received a commission from the council to 
make levies for the Lady Jane in Buckinghamshire, car- 
ried over his troops, which amounted to four thousand 
men, and joined Mary. Even a fleet which had been sent 
by Northumberland to lie oft' the coast of Suifolk, being 
forced into Yarmouth by a storm, was engaged to declare 
for that princess. 

Northumberland, hitherto bhnded by ambition, saw at last 
the danger gather round him, and knew not to what hand 
to turn himself He had levied forces, which were assem- 
bled at London; but dreading the cabals of the courtiers 
and councillors, whose compliance, he knew, had been en- 
tirely the result of fear or artifice, he was resolved to keep 
near the person of the Lady Jane, and send Suffolk to 
command the army. But the councillors, who wished to 
remove him, working on the filial tenderness of Jane, mag- 
nified to her the danger to which her father would be 
exposed ; and represented that Northumberland, who had 
gained reijutatiou by formerly suppressing a rebellion m 
those parts, was more proper to command in that enter- 
prise. The duke himself, who knew the slender capacity 
of Suflblk, began to think that none but himself was able 
to encounter the present danger ; and he agreed to take 
on him the command of the troops. The councillors atr 
tended on him at his departure w^ith the highest protesta- 
tions of attachment ; and none more than Arundel, his 
mortal enemy. As he went along, he remarked the disaf- 
fection of the people, which foreboded a fatal issue to his 
ambitious hopes. " Many," said he to Lord Gray, " come 
out to look at us, but I find not one who ci'ies, God speed 
you ! " 

The duke had no sooner reached St. Edmondsbury, than 
he found his army, which did not exceed six thousand 
men, too weak to encounter the queen's, which amounted 
to double the number. He wrote to the council, desmng 



230 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. 

tliem to send him a reinforcement ; and the councillors 
immediately laid hold of the opportunity to free them- 
selves from confinement. They left the Tower, as if they 
meant to execute Northumberland's commands; but being 
assembled in Baynard's castle, a house belonging to Pem- 
broke, they deliberated concerning the method of shaking 
off his usurped tyranny. Arundel began the conference, by 
representing the injustice and cruelty of Northumberland, 
the exorbitancy of his ambition, the criminal enterprise 
which he had projected, and the guilt in which he had 
involved the whole council ; and he affirmed, that the only 
method of making atonement for their past offences, was 
by a speedy return to the duty which they owed to their 
lawful sovereign. This motion was seconded by Pembroke, 
who, clapping his hand to his sword, swore he was ready 
to fight any man that expressed hunself of a contrary sen- 
timent. The mayor and aldermen of London were unme- 
diately sent for, who discovered great alacrity in obeymg 
the orders they received to proclaim Mary. The people 
expressed their approbation by shouts of applause. Even 
Suffolk, who commanded in the Tower, finding resistance 
fruitless, opened the gates, and declared for the queen. 
The Lady Jane, after the vain pageantry of wearing a 
crown during ten days, returned to a private life with 
more satisfaction than she felt when the royalty was ten- 
dered to her ; and the messengers who were sent to 
Northumberland with orders to lay down his arms, found 
that he had despaired of success, was deserted by all his 
followers, and had already proclaimed the queen, with ex- 
terior marks of joy and satisfaction. The people every- 
where, on the queen's approach to London, gave sensible 
expressions of their loyalty and attachment; and the Lady 
Elizabeth met her at the head of a thousand horse, which 
that princess had levied in order to support their joint 
title against the usurper. 

The queen gave orders for taking into custody the Duke 



LADY JANE GREY. 231 

of Nortlmmljerland, who fell on his knees to the Earl of 
Arundel, that arrested hun, and abjectly begged his life. 
At the same time were committed the Earl of "Warwick, 
his eldest son, Lord Ambrose and Lord Henry Dudley, two 
of his younger sons. Sir Andrew Dudley, his brother, 
the Marquis of Northampton, the Earl of Huntingdon, Sir 
Thomas Palmer, and Sir John Gates. The queen afterward 
confined the Duke of Suftblk, Lady Jane Grey, and Lord 
Guildford Dudley. But Mary was desirous, in the begin- 
ning of her reign, to acquire popularity by the appearance 
of clemency ; and because the councillors pleaded constraint 
as an excuse for their treason, she extended her pardon to 
most of them. Suflblk himself recovered his liberty; and 
he owed this indulgence, in a great measure, to the con- 
tempt entertained of his capacity. But the guilt of Nor- 
thumberland was too great, as well as his ambition and 
courage too dangerous, to peiinit him to entertain any 
reasonable hopes of life. When brought to his trial, he 
only desired permission to ask two questions of the peers 
appointed to sit on his jury ; whether a man could be 
guilty of treason that obeyed orders given him by the 
council under the great seal ; and whether those who were 
involved in the same guilt mth himself, could sit as his 
judges. Being told that the great seal of a usui'per was 
no authority, and that persons not lying under any sen- 
tence of attainder were still innocent in the eye of the 
law, and might be admitted on any jury, he acquiesced, 
and pleaded guilty. At his execution, he made profession 
of the Catholic religion, and told the people that they 
never would enjoy tranquillity tOl they returned to the 
faith of their ancestors ; whether that such were his real 
sentiments, wliich he had formerly disguised, from interest 
and ambition, or that he hoped by this declaration to ren- 
der the queen more flivorable to his family. Sir Thomas 
Palmer and Sir John Gates suffered with him ; and this 
was all the blood spilled on account of so dangerous and 



232 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. 

criminal an enterprise against the rights of the sovereign. 
Sentence was pronounced against the Lady Jane and Lord 
Guildford, but without any present intention of putting it 
in execution. The youth and innocence of the persons, 
neither of whom had reached their seventeenth year, 
pleaded sufficiently in their favor. 

After the Parliament and convocation were dismissed in 
1554, the new laws with regard to religion, though they 
had been anticipated in most places by the zeal of the 
Catholics, countenanced by government, were still more 
openly put in execution : the mass was everywhere rees- 
tablished ; and marriage was declared to be incompatible 
with any spiritual office. It has been asserted by some 
writers, that three fourths of the clergy were at this time 
deprived of their livings ; though other historians, more 
accurate, have estimated the number of suflerers to be far 
short of this proportion. A visitation was appointed, in 
order to restore more perfectly the mass and the ancient 
rites. Among other articles, the commissioners were en- 
joined to forbid the oath of supremacy to be taken by 
the clergy on their receiving any benefice. It is to be 
observed, that this oath had been established by the laws 
of Henry VIII., which were still in force. 

This violent and sudden change of religion inspired the 
Protestants with great discontent ; and even affected in- 
different spectators with concern, by the hardships to which 
,so many individuals were on that account exposed. But 
the Spanish match was a point of more general concern, 
and diffused universal apprehension for the liberty and in- 
dependence of the nation. To obviate all clamor, the ar- 
ticles of marriage were drawn as favorable as possible for 
the interests and secin-ity, and even grandeur of England. 
It was agreed that, though Philip should have the title of 
king, the administration should be entirely in the queen ; 
that no foreigner should be capable of enjoying any office 
in the kingdom; that no innovation should be made in the 



LADY JANE GREY. 233 

English laws, customs, and privileges ; that Phihp shoulil 
not carry the queen abroad without her consent, nor any 
of her children without the consent of the nobility ; that 
sixty thousand pounds a year should be settled as her 
jointure; that the male issue of this marriage should in- 
herit, together with England, both Burgimdy and the Low 
Countries ; and that if Don Carlos, Philip's son by his 
former marriage, should die, and his line be extinct, the 
queen's issue, whether male or female, should inherit Spain, 
Sicily, IVIilan, and all the other dominions of Philip. Such 
was the treaty of marriage signed by Count Egmont and 
three other ambassadors, sent over to England by the em- 
peror. 

These articles, when published, gave no satisfaction to 
the nation. It was universally said, that the emperor, in 
order to get possession of England, would verbally agree 
to any terms ; and the greater advantage there appeared 
in the conditions which he granted, the more certainly 
might it be concluded that he had no serious intention of 
observing them: that the usual fraud and ambition of that 
monarch might assm^e the nation of such a conduct ; and 
his son Philip, while he mherited these vices from his fa- 
ther, added to them tyranny, sullenness, pride, and bar- 
barity, more dangerous vices of his own : that England 
would become a province, and a province to a kingdom 
which usually exercised the most violent authority over all 
her dependent dominions : that the Netherlands, Milan, 
Sicily, Naples, groaned under the burden of Spanish tyran- 
ny ; and throughout all the new conquests in America 
there had been displayed scenes of unrelenting cruelty, 
hitherto unknown in the history of mankuid : that the In- 
quisition was a tribunal invented by that tyrannical nation, 
and would iufaUiljlj^, with all their other laws and institu- 
tions, be introduced into England; and that the divided 
sentiments of the people with regard to religion woidd 

30 



234 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. 

subject multitudes to this iniquitous tribunal, and would 
reduce the whole nation to the most abject servitude. 

These complaints being diffus(;d everywhere, prepared the 
people for a rebellion ; and had any foreign power given 
them encouragement, or any great man appeared to head 
them, the consequence might have proved fetal to the 
queen's authority. But the king of France, though en- 
gaged in hostilities with the emperor, refused to couci;r in 
any proposal for an insurrection, lest he should afford Mary 
a pretence for declarmg war against him. And the more 
prudent part of the nobility thought that, as the evils of 
the Spanish alliance were only dreaded at a distance, mat- 
ters were not yet fully prepared for a general revolt. 
Some persons, however, more turbulent than the rest, be- 
lieved that it would be safer to prevent than to redress 
grievances ; and they formed a conspiracy to rise in arms, 
and declare against the queen's marriage with Philip. Sir 
Thomas Wiat purposed to raise Kent ; Sir Peter Carew, 
Devonshire ; and they engaged the Duke of Suffolk, by the 
hopes of recovering the crown for the Lady Jane, to at- 
tempt raising the midland counties. Carew's impatience or 
apprehensions engaged him to break the concert, and to 
rise in arms before the day appointed. He was soon su2> 
pressed by the Earl of Bedford, and constrained to fly into 
France. On this intelligence, Suffolk, dreading an arrest, 
suddenly left the town with his brothers. Lord Thomas and 
Lord Leonard Gray, and endeavored to raise the people in 
the counties of Warwick and Leicester, . where his mterest 
lay ; Ijut he was so closely pursued by the Earl of Hun- 
tingdon, at the head of three hundred horse, that he Avas 
obliged to disperse his followers, and being discovered 
in his concealment, he was carried prisoner to London. 
Wiat was at first more successful in his attempt ; and hav- 
ing published a declaration, at Maidstone in Kent, against 
the queen's evil councillors, and against the Spanish match, 



LADY JANE GREY. 235 

"without any mention of religion, tlie people began to flock 
to his standard. The Duke of Norfolk, with Sir Henry 
Jernegan, was sent against him, at the head of the guards 
and some other troops, reinforced with five hundred Lon- 
doners commanded by Bret ; and he came within sight of 
the rebels at Eochester, where they had fixed their head- 
quarters. Sir George Harper here pretended to desert 
from them ; but- having secretly gained Bret, these two 
malecontents so wrought on the Londoners, that the 
whole body deserted to Wiat, and declared that they 
would not contribute to enslave their native country. 
Norfolk, dreading the contagion of the example, imme- 
diately retreated with his troops, and took shelter in the 
city. 

After this proof of the disposition of the people, es- 
pecially of the Londoners, who were mostly Protestants, 
Wiat was encouraged to proceed ; he led his forces to 
Southwark, where he required of the queen that she should 
put the Tower into his hands, should deliver four council- 
lors as hostages, and in order to insure the liberty of the 
nation, should immediately marry an Englishman. Finding 
that the bridge was secured against him, and that the city 
was overawed, he marched up to Kingston, where he 
passed the river with four thousand men ; and returning 
toward London, hoped to encourage his partisans who had 
engaged to declai'e for him. He had im2)rudently wasted 
so much time at Southwark, and in his march from King- 
ston, that the critical season, on which all popular commo- 
tions depend, was entirely lost : though he entered "West- 
minster without resistance, his foUoAvers, finding that no 
person of note joined him, insensil)ly fell oQ] and he was 
at last seized near Temple Bar by Sir Maurice Berkeley. 
Four hundred persons are said to have suffered for this 
rebellion ; four hundred more were conducted before the 
queen with ropes about their necks, and falling on their 
knees, received a pardon, and were dismissed. Wiat was 



236 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. 

condemned and executed : as it had been repoi-ted that, on 
his examination, lie had accused the Lady Ehzabetli and 
the Earl of Devonshire as accomplices, he took care, on 
the scaffold, before the whole people, fully to acquit them 
of having any share in his rebellion. 

The Lady Elizabeth had been, during some time, treated 
with great harshness by her sister; and many studied in- 
stances of discouragement and disrespect had been prac- 
tised against her. She was ordered to take place at court 
after the Countess of Lennox and the Duchess of Suffolk, 
as if she were not legitimate ; her friends were discounte- 
nanced on every occasion ; and while her virtues, which 
were now become eminent, drew to her the attendance of 
all the young nobility, and rendered her the favorite of 
the nation, the malevolence of the queen stiU discovered 
itself every day by fresh symptoms, and ol^liged the prin- 
cess to retire into the country. Mary seized the oppor- 
tunity of this rebellion ; and hoping to involve her sister 
in some appearance of guilt, sent for her under a strong 
guard, committed her to the Tower, and ordered her to be 
strictly examined by the council. But the public declara- 
tion made by Wiat rendered it impracticable to employ 
against her any false evidence which might have offei-ed ; 
and the princess made so good a defence, that the queen 
found herself imder a necessity of releasing her. In 
order to send her out of the kingdom, a marriage was 
offered her with the Duke of Savoy ; and when she de- 
clined the proposal, she was committed to custody under 
a strong guard at Wodestoke. The Eai'l of Devonshire, 
though equally innocent, was confined in Fotheringay 
Castle. 

But this rebellion jiroved fatal to the Lady Jane Grey, 
as well as to her husband : the Duke of Suffolk's guilt was 
im23uted to her; and though the rebels and malecontents 
seemed chiefly to rest their hopes on the Lady Elizabeth 
and the Earl of Devonshire, the queen, incapable of gen- 



LADY JANE GRFA'. 237 

erosity or clemency, determined to remove every person 
from whom the least danger conld be apprehended. Warn- 
ing was given the Lady Jane to pre2)are for death ; a 
doom which she had long expected, and which the inno- 
cence of her life, as well as the misfortunes to which she 
had been exposed, rendered nowise unwelcome to her. 
The queen's zeal, under color of tender mei'cy to the 
prisoner's soul, induced her to send divines, who harassed 
her with perpetual disputation ; and even a reprieve for 
three days was granted her, in hopes that she would be 
persuaded during that time to pay, by a timely conversion, 
some regard to her eternal welfare. The Lady Jane had 
presence of mind, in those melancholy circumstances, not 
only to defend her religion by all the topics then in use, 
but also to write a letter to her sister in the Greek lan- 
guage ; in which, besides sending her a copy of the Scriji- 
tures in that tongue, she exhorted her to maintain, in 
every fortune, a hke steady perseverance. On the day of 
her execution, her husband. Lord Guildford, desired j^er- 
mission to see her ; but she refused her consent, and in- 
formed him by a message, that the tenderness of their 
parting would overcome the fortitude of both, and would 
too much unl^end their minds from that constancy which 
their approaching end required of them : their separation, 
she said, Avoidd be only for a moment ; and they would 
soon rejoin each other in a scene where their affections 
would be forever imited, and w'here death, disappointment, 
and misfortunes, could no longer have access to them, or 
disturb their eternal felicity. 

It had been intended to execute the Lady Jane and 
Lord Guildford together on the same scaffold at Tower 
Hill ; but the council, dreading the compassion of the peo- 
ple for their youth, beauty, innocence, and noble birth, 
changed their orders, and gave directions that she should 
be beheaded within the verge of the Tower. She saw her 
husband led to execution ; and having given him from the 



238 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. 

window some token of her remembrance, she waited with 
tranquillity till her own ajipointed hour should bring her to 
a like fate. She even saw his headless body carried back 
in a cart ; and found herself more confirmed by the re- 
ports which she heard of the constancy of his end, than 
shaken by so tender and melancholy a spectacle. Sir John 
Gage, Constable of the Tower, when he led her to execu- 
tion, desired her to bestow on him some small present, 
which he might keep as a perpetual memorial of her : she 
gave him her table-book, on which she had just written 
three sentences on seeing her husband's dead body, one in 
Greek, another in Latin, a third in English. The purport 
of them was, that human justice was against his body, but 
divine mercy would be favorable to his soul ; that if her 
fault deserved punishment, her youth at least, and her im- 
prudence, were worthy of excuse ; and that God and pos- 
terity, she trusted, would show her favor. On the scaffold 
she made a speech to the by-standers ; in which the mild- 
ness of her disposition led her to take the blame wholly 
on herself, without uttermg one complaint against the 
severity with which she had been treated. She said, that 
her offence was not the having laid her hand upon the 
crown, but the not rejecting it with sufficient constancy ; 
that she had less erred through ambition than through 
reverence to her parents, whom she had been taught to 
respect and obey ; that she willingly received death, as 
the only satisfaction which she could now make to the 
injured state ; and though her infringement of the laws 
had been constrained, she would show, by her voluntary 
submission to their sentence, that she was desirous to 
atone for that disobedience into which too much filial 
piety had betrayed her; that she had justly deserved 
this pimishment for being made the instrument, though 
the unwilling instrument, of the ambition of others ; 
and that the story of her life, she hoped, might at 
least be usefid, by proving that innocence excuses not 



LADY JANE GREY. 239 

great misdeeds, if they tend anywise to the destruc- 
tion of the commonwealth. After uttering these words, 
she caused herself to be disrobed by her women; and with 
a steady, serene countenance, submitted herself to the ex- 
ecutioner. 



QUEEN PHILIPPA AND THE BURGESSES OF CALAIS. 



The beautiful engraving at the head of this article illus- 
trates a memorable event in history. The date of the 
occurrence was 1346-47. The scene, the personages, and 
the occasion are full of historic interest. The scene was 
the city of Calais, in France. Of the personages, one was 
an angry monarch incensed against a city of rebellious 
subjects ; another was his beautiful and heroic Queen on 
her bended knees, pleading for the lives of offending men ; 
the others were six brave and heroic nobles, who had vol- 
unteered to offer their lives to appease the anger of a 
wrathful sovereign. The occasion was the surrender of a 
city whose inhabitants were perishing with famine. The 
feelings developed on the occasion, and the facts recorded 
by the pen of the historian, present strongly-marked traits 
of human character. The engraving, to which artistic skill 
has imparted such lifelike lineaments, will attract the ad- 
miring eye of the reader, and give a renewed and fresh 
impression of the original scene to the mind, from which 
the facts may have faded. Repeated visits to that famed 
city have impressed the scene vividly upon our own mind. 
We gather up from historic pages the main facts, and con- 
struct a brief outline sketch by way of explanation to the 
reader as he gazes upon the engraving. 

At this date, 1346-47, Edward III, King of England, 
had besieged Calais with a powerfid army, to reestablish 
his authority over this revolted city. The brave men and 
inhabitants made a stout resistance, and the siege had been 
prolonged almost an entire year. Philip, learning the des- 

31 



242 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. 

perate condition of the city, attempted to relieve it. He 
marclied a powerful army of some two hundred thousand 
men, according to the historian of the times ; but found 
Edward and his army so strongly intrenched and defended 
by morasses, that he found it imisracticable to attempt a 
battle. He contented himself with sending Edward a chal- 
lenge to personal and single combat. In the mean time, 
David of Scotland had invaded England, entered Northum- 
berland Avith an army of fifty thousand men, and carried 
his ravages and devastations to the gates of Durham. But 
Queen Philippa, whom Edward, her husband, had left behind 
to attend to the affairs of England in his absence at the 
siege of Calais, assembled a little army of about twelve 
thousand men, which she intrusted to the command of 
Lord Percy ; ventured to approach him at Nevill's Cross, 
near that city; and riding through the ranks of her army, 
exhorted every man to do his duty, and to take re- 
venge on the invaders. Nor could Queen Philippa be per- 
suaded to leave the field till the armies were on the jjoint 
of beginning the battle. The army of the Scots was 
greatly superior in niunbers, but nevertheless was utterly 
defeated and routed. They were broken and chased off" 
the field. Fifteen thousand were slain ; among whom was 
the Earl Marshal, Edward Keith, and Sir Thomas Charteris, 
Chancellor of Scotland ; and the king himself was taken 
prisoner, and many other nolilemen. Queen Philippa having 
secured her royal jn'isoner in the Tower, crossed the sea at 
Dover, and was received in the English camjD before Calais 
with all the triumph due to her rank, her mei'it, and her 
success. This age w\as the reign of chivalry and gallantry. 
The court of Edward excelled in these accomplishments. 
The appearance of this extraordinary woman in the Eng- 
lish camp before Calais called forth the most obsequious 
devotion to this heroic Queen. It is these facts and occur- 
rences, among others, which impart additional interest and 
charm to the scene presented in the engraving. 



PHILIPPA AND THE BURGESSES OF CALAIS. 243 

It was at this juncture, and soon after the arrival of 
PhiHppa, that John of Vieune, governor of Calais, saw the 
necessity of surrendering his fortress, which was reduced to 
the last extremity l)y famine and the flitigue of the iuhal)- 
itants. He appeared on the walls, and made a signal to 
the EngUsh sentinels that he desired a parley. Sir Walter 
Manny was sent to him by Edward. "Brave Knight," cried 
the governor, "I have been intrusted by my sovereign with 
the command of this town. It is almost a year smce you 
besieged me ; and I have endeavored, as well as those un- 
der me, to do my duty. But you are acquainted with our 
present condition. We have no hopes of relief; we are 
perishing with hunger. I am willing, therefore, to surren- 
der, and desire, as the sole condition, to insure the lives 
and liberties of these brave men, who have so long shared 
with me every danger and fatigue." 

Mauny replied, that he was well acquainted with the 
intentions of the king of England ; that that prince was 
incensed against the townsmen of Calais for their perti- 
nacious resistance, and for the evils which they had made 
him and his subjects suffer; that he was determmed to 
take exemplary vengeance on them ; and would not re- 
ceive the town on any condition which should confine him 
in the punishment of these offenders. " Consider," replied 
Vienne, " that this is not the treatment to which brave 
men are entitled. If any English knight had been in my 
situation, your king would have expected the same conduct 
from him. The inhabitants of Calais have done for their 
sovereign what merits the esteem of every prince ; much 
more of so gallant a prince as Edward. But, I inform you 
that, if we must perish, we shall not perish unrevenged ; 
and that we are not so reduced but we can sell our lives 
at a high price to the victors. It is the interest of both 
sides to prevent these desperate extremities; and I exj^ect 
that you yourself. Brave Knight, will interpose your good 
offices with your prince on our behalf" 



244 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. 

Mauny was struck with the justness of these sentiments, 
and represented to the king the danger of reprisals, if he 
should give such treatment to the inhabitants of Calais. 
Edward was at last persuaded to mitigate the rigor of the 
conditions demanded ; he only insisted that six of the most 
considerable citizens should be sent to him to be disposed 
of as he thought proper ; that they should come to his 
camp carrying the keys of the city in their hands, bare- 
headed and barefooted, with ropes about their necks; and 
on these conditions he promised to spare the lives of the 
remainder. 

When this intelligence was conveyed to Calais, it struck 
the inhabitants with new consternation. To sacrifice six 
of their fellow-citizens to certain destruction for signalizing 
their valor in a common cause, appeared to them even 
more severe than that general punishment with which 
they were before threatened ; and they found themselves 
incapable of coming to any resolution in so cruel and dis- 
tressful a situation. At last one of the principal inhab- 
itants, called Eustace de St. Pierre, whose name deserves 
to be recorded, stepped forth, and declared himself willing 
to encounter death for the safety of his friends and com- 
panions. Another, animated by his example, made a like 
generous offer ; and a third and a fourth presented them- 
selves to the same fate, and the whole number was soon 
completed. These six heroic burgesses appeared before 
Edward in the guise of malefactors, laid at his feet the 
keys of their city, and were ordered to be led to execu- 
tion. It is surprising that so generous a prince should 
ever have entertained such a barbarous purpose against 
such men ; and still more that he should seriously persist 
in the resolution of executing it. But the entreaties of his 
Queen saved his memory from that infamy. She threw 
herself on her knees before him, (see the engraving,) and, 
Avith tears in her eyes, begged the lives of these citizens. 
Having obtained her request, she led them into her tent, 



PHILIPPA AND THE BURGESSES OF CALAIS. 215 

ordered a repast to be set before them, and, after making 
tbem a present of money and clothes, dismissed them in 
safety. Noble woman ! Illustrious Queen ! worthy of undy- 
ing remembrance on the pages of fame ! We have desired 
to perj^etuate her name and the glory of her deed of rich 
l:)euevolence, in our humljle measure, by illustrating it on 
the plate, and lay the record of it on these pages. We 
only add that Edward took possession of Calais, and ordered 
all the inhal^itants to evacuate the city, which he repeo- 
pled with Enghsh, in place of French, who, the king knew, 
regarded him as their mortal enemy. 




vm isyciiiiflNii 



RICHARD III. AND TIIE DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM. 



As this pi'int illustrates a chajiter in English history of 
sad and tragic interest, a brief explanation may not be un- 
acceptable. The character of Richard III. is well known to 
the readers of English history. Ambitious, unprincipled, 
talented, and treacherous, he aspired to the throne of Eng- 
land. He planned and plotted, and paused at no sanguin- 
ary means or measures to accomplish his object. He 
bathed his hands in blood, and achieved the purpose of his 
dark and cruel ambition. On the death of Edward IV., the 
Council of State invested him with the office of Protector 
of the realm. 

" Hitherto," says the historian, " Richard had been able 
to cover, by the most profound dissimulation, his fierce and 
savage nature. The numerous issue of Edward and the 
two children of Clarence seemed to be an eternal obstacle 
to his ambition. But a man who had abandoned all prin- 
cijjles of honor and humanity was soon carried, by his pre- 
dominant passion, beyond the reach of fear or precaution. 
Richard, having so fiir succeeded in his views, no longer 
hesitated in removing the other olistructions which lay be- 
tween him and the throne." He first determined on the 
death of the Earl of Rivers, and a number of other emi- 
nent jjersous, who had been arrested and held as prisoners ; 
and he easily obtained the consent of the Duke of Buck- 
ingham " to this violent and sanguinary measure. Orders 
were accordingly issued to Sir Richard Ratclifte, — a proper 
instrument in the hands of this tyrant, — to cut off the 
heads of the pi-isoners." 



248 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. 



SCENE IN THE PRINT. 

The historian continues, and here follows the language 
which the print illustrates: "Richard then assailed the fidel- 
ity of Buckingham by all the arguments capable of sway- 
ing a vicious mind, which knew no motive of action but 
interest and ambition. lie represented, that the execution 
of persons so nearly related to the king, whom that prince 
so oijenly professed to love, and whose fate he so much 
resented, would never pass unpunished ; and all the actors 
in that scene were bound in prudence to j^i'event the 
effects of his future vengeance ; that it would be impossible 
to keep the queen forever at a distance from her son, and 
equally impossible to prevent her from mstilliug into his 
tender mind the thoughts of retaliating, by like executions, 
the sanguinary insults committed on her family; that the 
only method of obviating these mischiefs was to put the 
sceptre in the hands of a man of whose friendship the Duke 
might be assured, and whose years and experience taught 
him to pay respect to merit, and to the rights of ancient 
noljility ; and that the same necessity which had carried 
them so far in resisting the usurpation of these intruders, 
must justify them in attempting further innovations, and in 
making, by national consent, a new settlement of the suc- 
cession. To these reasons he added the offers of great 
private advantages to the Duke of Buckingham ; and ho 
easily obtained from him a promise of supporting hun in 
all his enterprises." 

The thread of the narrative spins on. We have not 
room to recount it. In concert with Buckingham, the plot 
thickens alternately with farce and wnth tragedy, and then 
the historian thus describes the closing scene of the bloody 
drama : " This ridiculous farce was soon after followed by 
a scene truly tragical, — the murder of the two young 
princes. Eichard gave orders to Sk Robert Brakenbury, 



EICIIARD III. AND THE DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM. 249 

Constable of the Tower, to pi;t his nojjhews to death ; 1nit 
this gentleman, who had sentiments of honor, refused to 
have any hand in the mfamous office. The tyrant then 
sent for Sir James Tyrrel, who promised obedience ; and 
he oi'dered Brakenbury to resign to this gentleman the 
keys and government of the Tower for one night. Tyrrel 
choosing three associates, Slater, Dighton, and Forest, came 
in the night-time to the door of the chamber where the 
princes were lodged ; and sending in the assassins, he bade 
them execute their commission, while he himself staid with- 
out. They found the yoimg princes in bed, and fallen into 
a profound sleep. After suffocating them with a bolster 
and pillows, they showed their naked bodies to Tyrrel, 
who ordered them to be buried at the foot of the stairs, 
deep in the ground, vmder a heap of stones. These cir- 
cumstances were all confessed by the actors, in the follow- 
ing reign ; and they were never j^unished for the crime ; 
probably because Henry, whose maxims of government 
were extremely arbitrary, desired to establish it as a prin- 
ciple, that the commands of the reigning sovereign ought 
to justify every enormity m those who paid obedience to 
them. But there is one circumstance not so easy to be 
accounted for : it is pretended that Kichard, displeased with 
the indecent manner of burying his nephews, whom he 
had murdered, gave his chaplain orders to dig up the 
bodies, and to inter them in consecrated ground ; and as 
the man died soon after, the place of their burial remained 
unknown, and the bodies could never be found by any 
search which Henry could make for them. Yet in the 
reign of Charles II., when there was occasion to remove 
some stones, and to dig in the very spot which was men- 
tioned as the place of their first interment, the bones of 
two persons were there found, which by their size exactly 
corresponded to the age of Edward and his brother ; they 
were concluded with certainty to be the remains of those 
princes, and were interred vmder a marble monument, by 



250 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. 

orders of King Charles. Perhaps Eichard's chaplain had 
died before he found an opportunity of executing his mas- 
ter's commands ; and the bodies being supposed to be al- 
ready removed, a diligent search was not made for them 
by Henry in the place where they had been buried." 







|UJj 



I fr= 






en 






CROMWELL DISSOLVING THE LONG PAELIAMENT. 

(SEE THE PRINT.) 



Oliver Cromwell was the son of Robert Cromwell, M. P. 
ill the Parliament of 1593, and his wife Elizabeth, daugh- 
ter of Sir Richard Stewart. He was born at Huntingdon, 
April 25, 1599, and named after his uncle and godfather 
Sir OUver Cromwell. He entered Sidney College, Cam- 
bridge, April 23, 1616, where he remained a little more 
than a year. On the death of his father, June, 1617, 
he was removed from the University l)y his mother, who 
wished him to enter Lincoln's Inn, that he might follow 
the profession of the law. Having completed his twenty- 
first year, he was mari'ied, August 22, 1620, to Elizabeth, 
daughter of Sir James Bourchier. In 1629, the House of 
Commons having resolved itself into a grand committee on 
religion, Cromwell made a speech calling attention to the 
" preaching of flat popery ; " but, befoi-e steps could be 
taken to prevent it, the king dissolved the Parliament. 
Disgusted with the proceedings of the court, he had deter- 
mined in 1637 to emigrate to America ; and, having taken 
a passage to New England in a ship then lymg in the 
Thames, embarked with his whole family. The vessel was, 
however, detained by a ^proclamation forbidding such em- 
barkations. He returned therefore to Ely. The activity 
and vigor of his mmd soon became generall}^ known, and 
in such esteem was he held that he was elected repre- 
sentative of the town of Cambridge, both to the sliort- 
lived Parhament of 1640, and afterwards to the Long 



252 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. 

Parliament, by which it was sjicedily followed. Cromwell 
was now in the middle age of life. His health wa,s strong, 
and his judgment matured. Oliver Cromwell was soon a 
marked man in the great council of the nation ; and he 
was one of the very first to contribute in pocket and jier- 
son to the active resistance which soon was raised to the 
royal measures. The tyranny and maladministration of the 
weak and ol)stinate Charles had become the subject, in 
1G41, of a strong remonstrance from his Pai'liament, which 
at once insured their rupture with the king. Cromwell, 
now associated in the councils .with Hampden, Pym, and 
the rest of the popular leaders, strenuously supported this 
remonstrance ; and in 1642, when the civil war com- 
menced, he eagerly i-aised a troop of horse, under the 
authority of the Parliament, with which he immediately 
took the field in their cause; and "Cromwell's Ironsides" 
were the first of the j^tii'liamentary horse who successfully 
withstood Rupert's cavalry. In numerous skirmishes in 
Avhich he was engaged, he only once met with a serious 
misadventure. At the battle of Wincely, his horse being 
shot under him, on attempting to rise he was knocked 
down by a cavalier, and with difficulty rescued by liis own 
party. 

At the battle of Marston Mooi', at Stamford, and at the 
second battle of Newbury, Cromwell was distinguished. At 
tlie battle of Naseby, June 16, 1645, Cromwell commanded 
the right wing, and Ireton, his son-in-law, the left. Crom- 
^vv\\ and Fairfox, taking advantage of Prince Rupert's te- 
merity, totally dispersed the king's infantry, and took his 
artillery and ammimition. At the storming of Bristol, 
Cromwell took the principal Y)art. On his return to Lon- 
don, he received the thanks of the Parliament, and he was 
rewarded by a grant of twenty-five hundred pounds a year. 
After various changes, conflicts, battles, and victories, the 
king was left in custodj^ in the Isle of Wight, and Crom- 
well again took the field against the Scots, and was again 



CROMWELL DISSOLVING THE LONG PARLIAMENT. 253 

victorious. In January, 1049, the king's trial commenced. 
Cromwell was appointed a member of the covu't, and at- 
tended every meeting of it but one ; and when the sen- 
tence was passed, he was the third who signed the warrant 
for the execution. He was now beset with entreaties to 
spare the king's life, but his answer to all was an echo of 
that to his cousin. Colonel Cromwell : " Go to rest, and 
expect no answer to carry to the prince, for the council 
of officers have been seeking God, as I also have done, 
and it is resolved by them all that the king must die." 
The execution followed accordingly. The battle of Wor- 
cester placed Cromwell avowedly at the head of public 
affairs. He had made up his mind that there must be 
government by a single person, whatever was the title he 
took. At length, in 1653, perceiving that the remnant of 
the Parliament became daily more jealous of his power, he 
determined to put an end to their authority. He first 
sent them a remonstrance. His next movement was to 
enter the House, April 20, 1653. In the language of the 
historian, Hume, we have it as follows : — 

" In the council of officers it was presently voted to 
frame a remonstrance to the Parliament. After complain- 
ing of the arrears due to the army, they there desired the 
Parliament to reflect how many years they had sitten, and 
what professions they had formei-ly made of their inten- 
tions to new-model the representative, and establish suc- 
cessive parliaments, who might bear the burden of national 
affairs, from which they themselves would gladly, after so 
much danger and fatigue, be at last relieved. They con- 
fessed that the Parliament had achieved great enterprises, 
and had surmovmted mighty difficulties ; yet was it an 
injury, they said, to the rest of the nation to be excluded 
from bearing any part in the service of their country. 
It was now full time for them to give place to others; 
and they therefore desired them, after settling a council 
who might execute the laws during the interval, to sum- 



254 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. 

mon a new Parliament, and establish that free and equal 
government, -which they had so long promised to the 
people. 

" The Parliament took this remonstrance in ill part, and 
made a sharp reply to the council of officers. The officers 
insisted on their advice ; and by mutual altercation and 
opposition the breach became still wider between the army 
and the Commonwealth. Cromwell, finding matters ripe for 
his purpose, called a council of officers (twentieth April), 
in order to come to a determmation with regard to the 
public settlement. As he had here many friends, so had 
he also some opponents. Harrison having assured the 
council that the general sought only to pave the way for 
the government of Jesus and his saints. Major Streator 
briskly replied, that Jesus ought then to come quickly : for 
if he delayed it till after Christmas, he woidd come too 
late ; he would find his place occupied. While the officers 
were in debate, Colonel Ingoldsby informed Cromwell, that 
the Parliament was sitting, and had come to a resolution 
not to dissolve themselves, but to fill up the House by new 
elections; and was at that very time engaged in dehbera- 
tions with regard to this expedient. Ci-omwell m a rage 
immediately hastened to the house, and carried a body of 
three hundred soldier's alono; with him. Some of them he 
jjlaced at the door, some in the lobby, some on the stairs. 
He first addressed himseh" to his friend St. John, and told 
him that he had come with a purpose of doing what 
grieved him to the very soul, and what he had earnestly 
with tears besought the Lord not to impose upon him : 
but there was a necessity, in order to the glory of God 
and good of the nation. He sat down for some time, and 
heard the debate. He beckoned Harrison, and told him 
that he now judged the Parliament ripe for a dissolution. 
' Sir,' said Harrison, ' the work is very great and danger- 
ous ; I desire you seriously to consider, before you engage 
in it.' ' You say well,' replied the general ; and thereupon 



CROMWELL DISSOLVING THE LONG PARLIAiMENT. 255 

sat still about a quarter of an hour. When the question 
was ready to be put, he said again to Harrison, ' This is 
the time : I must do it.' And suddenly starting up, he 
loaded the Parliament with the vilest reproaches, for their 
tyranny, ambition, oppression, and robbery of the public. 
Then stamping with his foot, which was a signal for the 
soldiers to enter, ' For shame ! ' said he to the Parliament, 
' get you gone ! give place to honester men ; to those who 
will more faithfully discharge their trust. You are no 
longer a Parliament, — I tell you, you are no longer a Par- 
liament. The Lord has done with you ; he has chosen 
other instruments for carrying on his work.' Sir Harry 
Vane exclaiming against this proceeding, he cried with a 
loud voice, ' Sir Harry Vane, Sir Harry Vane ! the Lord 
deliver me from Sir Harry Vane ! ' He commauded a sol- 
dier to seize the mace. ' What shall we do with this 
bauble ? here, take it away. It is you,' said he, address- 
ing hunself to the House, ' that have forced me upon this. 
I have sought the Lord night and day, that he would 
rather slay me than put me upon this work.' Having 
commanded the soldiers to clear the hall, he himself went 
out the last, and ordering the doors to be locked, departed 
to his lodgings in Whitehall. 

" In this manner, which so well denotes his genuine 
character, did Cromwell, without the least opposition, or 
even munnur, annihilate that famous assembly which had 
filled all Europe with the renown of its actions, and with 
astonishment at its crimes, and whose commencement was 
not more ardently desired by the people than was its final 
dissolution. All parties now rea2)ed successively the melan- 
choly pleasure of seeing the injuries which they had suf- 
fered revenged on their enemies; and that too by the 
same arts which had been practised against them. The 
king had, in some instances, stretched his prerogative be- 
yond its just bounds ; and, aided by the church, had well- 
nigh put an end to all the liberties and privileges of the 



256 THE COURT OF ENGLAND. 

nation. By recent, as well as all ancient, example, it was 
become evident that illegal violence, with whatever pre- 
tences it may be covered, and whatever object it may 
pursue, must inevitably end at last in the arbitrary and 
despotic government of a single person." 




:A N O E [fi! " . 



THE COURT OF RUSSIA. 



The Court of this colossal empire dates back a thousand 
years. The monarchy was founded by Prince Rurilv, in the 
year 862. The Court of Russia began with him. The con- 
tinuous and particular history of that court for a long 
period is not well known. In 980 to 1015 Vladimir in- 
troduced Christianity, and founded cities and schools. From 
that period down to 1237, when the country was overrun 
by the Tartars, Russia, with few exceptions, was the the- 
atre of civil war. In the year 1328, the court and the 
seat of government were removed to Moscow. In the year 
1481, the Tartars were finally expelled from the country. 
In the year 1613, the house of Romanoft^ from which the 
pi'esent Emperor of Russia is descended, was raised to 
the throne. Under the direction of this reigning family, 
the power and influence of Russia became greatly extended 
and established. At length, in 1696, Peter the Great as- 
cended the throne, and the destinies of Russia and of the 
Northern world were immediately changed. This prince, 
who has, it is said, a l^etter claim than any other to be 
called " Great " and " the Father of his country," gave to 
the arms of Russia a decided preponderance in the North 
of Europe. He built a fleet, and conquered large provinces 
on the Baltic. He laid the foundations of the noble city 
which bears his name, and introduced the arts and litera- 
ture among his people, and advanced the civilization of his 
empire. Under Catharine II., an emj^ress of extraordinary 
talent, Russia made vast acquisitions of territory in Poland 
and on the Black Sea, where she has now the same as- 

33 



258 THE COURT OF RUSSIA. 

cendancy as in the Baltic. A long line of monarchs have 
ascended the throne of Russia and held imperial sway over 
her vast dominions for longer or shorter periods, amid the 
troul)lous times and exciting scenes of her eventful history. 
In more modern years the history of the Court of Russia 
and her sovereigns, since the accession of Alexander I., are 
well known to the reading world. Historic annals record 
the life and times of Alexander I. and of Napoleon I., their 
wars, their battles, their friendships, and the terminations 
of their eventful careers. This brief and imperfect outline- 
sketch of the Court of Russia will suffice to introduce the 
portraits of her imperial sovereigns which are to be found 
in this volume and the several records of their personal 
history. 



THE EMPEROR ALEXANDER I. 

This illustrious personage acted a conspicuous part in 
the great historic scenes and events of the first quarter of 
the present century. The portrait from which this has 
been engraved was taken from life at St. Petersburg and 
is believed to be accurate. 

The Emperor Alexander was bora December 23, 1777. 
He was the son of the Emperor Paul and of Maria, 
daughter of Prince Eugene of Wiirtemberg. From his 
infancy he was distinguished for a gentle and aflection- 
ate disposition, and a superior capacity. His education was 
directed not by his parents, but by his grandmother, the 
reigning empress, Catharine II., who lived until he had 
attained his nineteenth year. Under her superintendence 
he was carefully instructed by La Harpe and other able 
tutors in the different branches of a liberal education, and 
in the accomplishments of a gentleman. 

Catharine was succeeded, in 179G, by her son Paul, 
whose mad reign was put an end to by his assassination 



THE EMPEROR ALEXANDER I. 259 

on the twenty-fourth of March, 1801. No doubt can be 
entertained that Alexander, as well as his younger brother 
Constantine, was privy to the preparations which were 
made for the dethronement of his father, which had in- 
deed become almost a measure of necessity ; but all the 
facts tend to make it highly improbable that he contem- 
plated the fiital issue of the attempt. The immediate se- 
quel of this ti'agedy was a slight domestic dispute, occar 
sioned by a claim being advanced by the widow of the 
murdered emperor to the vacant throne, who had u<jt 
been admitted into tlie conspiracy. After a short alterca- 
tion she was prevailed upon to relinquish her pretensions ; 
and the Grand Duke Alexander was forthwith proclaimed 
Emperor and Autocrat of all the Russias. This collision does 
not seem to have left any unpleasant traces on the mind 
either of Alexander or his mother, to whom during his life 
he always continued to show respect and attachment. The 
Empress Maria survived her son about three years. 

The history of the reign of Alexander is the history of 
Eurojje for the first quarter of the present century. When 
Alexander came to the throne he found himself engaged 
in a war with England, which had broken out in the 
course of the preceding year. He immediately indicated 
the pacific character of his policy by taking steps to bring 
about a termination of this state of things, which was 
already seriously distressing the commerce of Russia ; and 
a convention was accordingly concluded between the two 
powers, and signed at St. Petersburg on the seventeenth 
of June, 1801. The general peace followed on the first of 
October, and lasted till the declaration of war by England 
against France on the eighteenth of May, 1803. 

Alexander did not immediately join England in the war 
against France ; but even in the early part of 1804 symp- 
toms began to appear of an approaching breach between 
Russia and the latter country. On the eleventh of April, 
1805, a treaty of alliance with England Avas concluded at 



260 THE COURT OF RUSSIA. 

St. Petersburg, to which Aiistria became a party on the 
ninth of August, and Sweden on the third of October fol- 
lowing. Tliis league, commonly called the third coalition, 
speedily led to actual hostilities. The campaign was emi- 
nently disastrous to the allied powers. A succession of 
battles, fought between the sixth and the eighteenth of 
October, almost annihilated the Austrian army before any 
of the Russian troops arrived. Alexander made his ap- 
pearance at Berlin on the twenty-fifth, and there, in a few 
days after, concluded a secret convention with the King of 
Prussia, by which that prince, who had hitherto ^^rofessed 
neutrality, bound himself to join the coalition. Before 
leaving the Prussian capital, Alexander, in company with 
the king and queen, visited at midnight the tomb * of the 
Great Frederick, and, after having kissed the coffin, is said 
to have solemnly joined hands with his brother sovereign, 
and pledged himself that nothing should ever break their 
friendship. He then hastened by way of Leipzig and 
Weimar to Dresden, from whence he proceeded to Olmutz, 
and there, on the eighteenth of November joined the Em- 
peror of Austria. On the second of the following month, 
the Austrian and Russian troops, commanded by the two 
Emperors in person, were beaten in the memorable and 
decisive battle of Austerlitz. The immediate consequences 
of this great defeat were the conclusion of a convention 
between France and Austria, and Alexairder's departure to 
Russia with the remains of his army. 

Although Alexander did not accede either to the con- 
vention between France and Austria, or to the Treaty of 
Presburg, by which it was followed, he thought proper, 
after a short time, to profess a disposition to make peace 
with France, and negotiations were commenced at Paris 
for that object. But after a treaty had been signed on 
the twentieth of July, 1806, he refused to ratify it, on the 

* The tomb or mausoleum is in the old church at Potsdam, twenty-one 
miles from Berlin. 



THE EMPEROR ALEXANDER I. 261 

pretence that his minister had dei^artecl from his instruc- 
tions. The true motive of his refusal no doubt was, that 
by this time arrangements were completed with Prussia 
and England for a fourth coalition ; and it is even far 
from improbable that the negotiations which led to the 
signature of the treaty had from the tirst no other oljject 
beyond gaining time for preparations. On the eighth of 
February hostilities recommenced, and the victory of Jena, 
gained by Bonaparte a few days after, laid the Prussian 
monarchy at his feet. When this great battle was fought, 
Alexander and his Russians had scarcely reached the fron- 
tiers of Gei-many ; on receiving the news they immediately 
retreated across the Vistula. Hither they were pursued by 
Bonaparte, and having been joined by the remnant of the 
Prussian army, were beaten on the eighth of February, 
1807, in the destructive battle of Eylau. Finally, on the 
fourteenth of June, the united armies were again defeated 
in the great battle of Friedland, and compelled to retreat 
behind the Niemen. This crowning disaster terminated 
the canipaigu. An armistice was arranged on the twenty- 
first ; and five days after, Alexander and Napoleon met in 
a tent erected on a raft in the middle of the Niemen ; 
and at that interview not only arranged their difl'er- 
ences, but, if we may trust the subsequent professions of 
both, were converted from enemies into warmly-attached 
friends. A treaty of peace was signed between the two at 
Tilsit on the seventh of July, by a secret article of which 
Alexander engaged to join France against England. He 
accordingly declared war against his late ally, on the 
twenty-sixth of October following. The Treaty of Tilsit, 
indeed, converted the Russian Emperor into the enemy of 
almost all his former friends, and the friend of all his 
former enemies. Turkey, though supported by France, had 
for some time been hard pressed by the united mihtary 
and naval operations of England and Russia ; but upon 
Alexander's coahtion with the French Emperoi", a truce 



a 



262 THE COURT OF RUSSIA. 

was concluded between Turkey and Russia at Slobosia, 
August twenty-foui'th, and the Turkish empire was saved 
from the ruin which threatened it. The meeting of the 
Emperors of France and Russia at Tilsit is an important 
event not only in the life of Alexander, but in the history 
of Europe. It produced a total change in the policy of 
Russia, as well as in the personal sentiments of the two 
Emperors, who from deadly enemies became to all appear- 
ance cordial friends. At their first interview, on the 
twenty-fifth of June, 1807, each left the banks of the 
Niemen in a boat attended by his suite. The boat of Nar 
poleon cleared the distance first ; and Napoleon, stepping 
on the raft appointed for the conference, passed over, and 
receiving Alexander on the opposite side, embraced him in 
the sight of both armies. The first words of Alexander 
were directed to flatter the ruling passion of Napoleon. 
I hate the English," he exclaimed, " as much as you do ; 
whatever you take in hand against them, I will be your 
second." " In that case," replied Napoleon, " everything can 
be easily settled, and peace is already made." In the first 
conference they remained together two hours ; the next 
day they met again, and Alexander presented to Napoleon 
the King of Prussia, who was soon after joined by his 
Queen. During the remainder of the conferences, which 
lasted twenty days, the two Emperors were daily in the 
haliit of meeting and conversing on terms of intimacy ; 
while the King of Prussia was treated by Napoleon with 
haughtiness, and the Queen with rudeness, and Alexander 
appeared almost ashamed to make any exertion in their 
favor with his new friend. He even concluded a separate 
treaty with Napoleon, to the bitter mortification of Fred- 
erick William ; the treaty made with whom soon after was 
of a very different character from that between the two 
Emjierors. 

On the twenty-fourth of February, 1808, Alexander, in 
obedience to the plan arranged with Napoleon, declared 



THE EMPEROR ALEXANDER I. 263 

war against Sweden ; and followed up this declaration by 
despatching an army to Swedish Finland, which, after a 
great deal of fighting, succeeded in obtaining complete 
possession of that country. On the twenty-seventh of 
SejDtember the Russian and French Emperors met again 
at Erfurt. Many of the German princes, with representa- 
tives of the King of Prussia and the Emperor of Austria, 
also attended the congress, which continued to sit till the 
fifteenth of October. On this occasion a projDOsal for 
peace was made to England in the united names of Na- 
poleon and Alexander, but the negotiations were broken 
off after a few weeks. 

The friendly relations of Alexander with France con- 
tinued for nearly five years ; but, notwithstanding fair ap- 
pearances, various causes were in the mean while at work 
which could not fail at last to bring about a rupture. In 
the mean while, however, the Treaty of Vienna, signed on 
the fourteenth of October, 1809, which, following the Ijat- 
tles of Essling and Wagram, dissolved the fifth coahtion 
against France, increased the Russian dominion by the an- 
nexation of Eastern Gahcia, ceded by Austria. The war 
with Turkey also, which had been recommenced, continued 
to be prosecuted with success. But by the end of the 
year 1811 the disputes with the court of Paris, which 
ostensiljly arose out of the seizure by Bonaparte of the 
dominions of the Duke of Oldenburg, had assumed such a 
height as left it no longer doubtful that war would follow. 
A treaty of alliance having been previously signed with 
Sweden, oia the nineteenth of March, 1812, Alexander de- 
clared war against France ; and on the twenty-fourth of 
Ajjril he left St. Petersburg to join his army on the wesf^ 
ern frontier of Lithuania. On the twenty-eighth of May, 
peace was concluded at Bucharest on advantageous terms 
with Turkey, which relinquished everythmg to the left of 
the Prutli. The immense army of France, led by Napo- 
leon, entered the Russian territory on the twenty-fifth of 



2G4 THE COURT OF RUSSIA. 

June. As they advanced, the inhabitants fled as one man, 
and left the invaders to march through a silent desert. In 
this manner the French reached Wilna. On the fourteenth 
of July Alexander had repaired to Moscow, whence he 
proceeded to Finland, where he had an interview with 
Bernadotte, then crown-prince of Sweden. Here he learned 
the entry oP the French into Smolensk. He immediately 
declared that he never would sign a treaty of peace with 
Napoleon while he was on Russian ground. " Should St. 
Petersburg be taken," he added, " I will retire into Siberia. 
I will then resume our ancient customs, and, like our long- 
bearded ancestors, will return anew to conquer the em- 
pire." "This resolution," exclaimed Bernadotte, "will liber- 
ate Europe ! " 

On the seventh of September took place the first serious 
encounter between the two annies, the battle of Borodino, 
in which twenty-five thousand men perished on each side. 
On the fourteenth the French entered Moscow. In a few 
houi's the city was a smoking ruin. Napoleon's homeward 
march then commenced, and terminated in the destruction 
of his magnificent army. Not fewer than three hundred 
thousand Frenchmen perished in this camjiaign. The rem- 
nant, which was above one hundred and fifty thousand, re- 
passed the Niemen on the sixteenth of December. 

In the early part of the following year Prussia and 
Austria successively became parties to the alliance against 
France. Alexander, who had joined his army while in 
pursuit of Bonaparte at Wilna, continued to accomjjany 
the allied troops throughout the campaign of this summer. 
On the twenty-sixth and twenty-seventh of August he was 
present at the battle of Dresden, and on the eighteenth of 
October at the still more sanguinary conflict of Leipzig. 
On the twenty-fourth of February, 1814, he met the King 
of Prussia at Chaumont, where the two sovereigns signed 
a treaty binding themselves to prosecute the war against 
France to a successful conclusion, even at the cost of all 



THE EMPEROR ALEXANDER I. 265 

the resources of their dominions. On the thirtieth of 
March, one hundred and fifty thousand of the troops of 
the ahies were before the walls of Paris, and on the fol- 
lowing day at noon, Alexander and William Frederick en- 
tered the capital. 

xllexander, owing in a great measure to his engaging 
affability, as well as to the liberal sentiments which he 
made a practice of professing, was a great favorite with 
the Parisians. The conquerors having determined upon the 
deposition of Bonaparte, and the restoration of the Bour- 
bons, Alexander spent the remainder of the time he stayed 
in inspecting the difterent objects of interest in the city 
and its vicinity, as if he had visited it in the course of a 
tour. He left the French capital about the first of June, 
aijd proceeding to Boulogne, was there, along with the King 
of Prussia, taken on board an English ship -of- war, com- 
manded by the Duke of Clarence, and conveyed to Calais, 
from which port the royal yachts brought over the two 
sovereigns. They landed at Dover on the evening of the 
seventh, and next day came to London. They remained 
in this comitry for about three weeks, during which time 
they visited Oxford and Portsmouth, and wherever they 
went, as well as in the metropolis, were received with 
honors and festivities of unexampled magnificence, amidst 
the tumultuous rejoicings of the people. From England 
Alexander proceeded to Holland, and thence, after a short 
stay, to Carlsruhe, where he was joined by the Empress. 
On the twenty-fifth of July he arrived at his own capital, 
St. Petersburg, where his appearance was greeted by illu- 
minations and other testimonies of popidar joy. 

The Congress of European sovereigns at Vienna opened 
on the third of November, 1814. In the political arrange- 
ments made by this assembly, Alexander obtained at least 
his fair share of advantages, having been recognized as 
King of Poland, which country was at the same tune an- 
nexed to the Russian empire. Before the members of the 

34 



266 THE COURT OF RUSSIA. 

Congress separated, however, news arrived of Bonaparte's 
escape from Elba. They remained together till after the 
battle of Waterloo ; when Alexander, with the Emperor of 
Austria and the King of Prussia, proceeded to Paris, where 
they arrived in the beginning of July, 1815. On the 
twenty-sixth of the following September, the three sover- 
eigns signed an agreement, professedly for the jjreservation 
of universal peace on the principles of Christianity, to 
which, with some 2)resumption, if not impiety, they gave 
the name of the Holy Alliance. On leaving Paris, Alexan- 
der proceeded to Brussels, to arrange the marriage of his 
sister, the Grand Duchess Anne, with the Prince of Orange; 
and thence, by the way of Dijon and Zurich, to Berlin, 
where he concluded another family alliance, by the mar- 
riage of his brother Nicholas, afterwards emperor, with the 
Princess Charlotte, daughter of the King of Prussia. On 
the twelfth of November he arrived at Warsaw, and after 
publishing the heads of a constitution for Poland, he left 
this city on the third of December, and on the thirteenth 
reached St. Petersburg. 

No great events mark the next years of the reign of 
Alexander. On the twenty-seventh of March, 1818, he 
opened in person the first Polish diet at Warsaw, on the 
close of which he set out on a journey through the south- 
ern provinces of his empire, visiting Odessa, the ' Crimea, 
and Moscow. The congress of Aix-la-Chapelle, at which he 
was present with the Emperor of Austria and the King of 
Prussia, met in Septemljer, and on the fifteenth of the fol- 
lowing month promulgated a declaration, threatening, in 
reference to the then state of Spain, the suppression of all 
insurrectionary movements wherever they might take place. 
The congresses held in 1820 and 1821 at Troppau and 
Laybach, on the afflxirs of Naples and Piedmont, and that 
of Verona in 1822, were also mainly directed by the 
Kussian Autocrat. 

In the beginning of the winter of 1825, Alexander left 



THE EMPEROR ALEXANDER I. 267 

St. Petersburg, on a journey to the southern provinces, and 
on the twenty-fifth of September arrived at Taganrog on 
the Sea of Azof From this town he, some time after, 
set out on a tour to the Crimea, and returned to Taganrog 
about the middle of November. Up to nearly the close 
of this latter excursion, he had enjoyed the highest health 
and spirits. But he was then suddenly attacked by the 
common intermittent fever of the country, and when he 
arrived at Taganrog he was very ill. Trusting, however, 
to the strength of his constitution, he long refused to sub- 
mit to the remedies which his physicians prescribed. When 
he at length consented to allow leeches to be applied, it 
was too late. During the last few days that he continued 
to breathe, he was insensible ; and on the morning of the 
first of December he expired. 

It was for some time riunored in foreign coimtries that 
Alexander had been carried oft' by poison ; but it is now 
well ascertained that there is no ground whatever for this 
suspicion. It appears, however, that his last days were 
imljittered by the information of an extensive conspiracy 
of many of the nobility and officers of the ai"my to sub- 
vert the government, and even to take away his life ; and 
it is not improbable that this news, which is said to have 
been brought to him by a courier during the middle of 
the night of the eighth, which he spent at Alupta, nuxy 
have contributed to hasten the fever by which he was two 
or three days after attacked. 

The death of Alexander took place exactly a centuiy 
after that of Peter the Great, uiader whom the civilization 
of Eussia may be said to have commenced. The state of 
the empire did not change so completely during Alexan- 
der's reign as it did during that of Peter ; but still the 
advancement of almost every branch of the national pros- 
perity, in the course of the quarter of a century during 
which Alexander filled the throne, was probably, with that 
one exception, greater than had ever been exhibited in 



268 THE COURT OF RUSSIA. 

any other country. He founded or reorganized seven uni- 
versities, and established two hundred and four gymnasia, 
and above two thousand schools of an inferior order. The 
literature of Russia was also greatly indebted to his liberal 
encouragement, although he continued the censorship of 
the press in a modified form. He greatly promoted among 
his subjects a knowledge of and taste for science and the 
fine arts by his munificent purchases of paintings, and ana- 
tomical and other collections. The agriculture, the manu- 
factures, and the commerce of Russia were all immensely 
extended durmg his reign. Finally, to Alexander the peo- 
ple of Russia were indebted for many political reforms of 
great value. Under Alexander, also, both the extent and 
the po^Julation of the Russian dominions were greatly aug- 
mented ; the military strength of the nation was developed 
and organized ; and the country, from holding but a subor- 
dinate rank, took its place as one of the leading powers 
of Europe. 

Alexander was married, on the ninth of October, 1793, 
to the Princess Louisa Maria Augusta of Baden, who, on 
becoming a member of the Imperial family, assumed the 
name of Elizabeth Alexiewna. By her, however, he had 
no issue. On his death, his next brother, the Grand Duke 
Constantine, was proclaimed king at Warsaw ; but he im- 
mediately surrendered the throne to his younger brother, 
the late Emperor Nicholas, according to an agreement 
made with Alexander during his lifetime. 




Wn€[K](n)lLI\§„lEM[F 



THE EMPEEOR NICHOLAS. 



Nicholas I., Pavlovich, Emperor of Russia, styled also 
Czar and Autocrat of all the Russias, was born in the city 
of St. Petersburg, July 7, 1796, June 25, old style. He 
was the third son of the Emperor Paul; Alexander I. hav- 
ing been the fix'st son, and the Grand Duke Constautine 
the second son. His mother, Sophie Dorothea, a daughter 
of Friedrich Eugen, Duke of Wiirtemberg, when she became 
the second wife of the Emperor Paul, became also a mem- 
ber of the Greek Church, and, as is the usage, changed 
her names to those of Maria Feodorowna. 

The Emperor Paul having been assassinated March 23, 
1801, Nicholas was left entirely to the care of his mother, 
who appointed General Lamsdorf his governor, and selected 
the Countess Lieven and the German philologist Adelung, 
as his principal teachers in languages and literature, and 
Councillor Storch as his instructor in general politics and 
other sciences and arts suitable to his rank and station. 
He acquired the power of speaking the French and Ger- 
man languages with as much facility as the Russian, and 
early manifested that preference for military display, mil- 
itary tactics, and the art of fortification, which distinguished 
him through life. 

After the termination of the great European war in 
1814, Nicholas was sent to travel, and visited some of the 
principal battle-fields. In 1816 he came to England, where 
he met with a cordial reception. He aftenvards made a 
tour in the chief provinces of the Rassian empire. On the 
thirteenth of July, 1817, he married Frederica Louisa Char- 



270 THE COURT OF EUSSIA. 

lotte Wilhelmina, eldest daughter of Frederic William III., 
King of Prussia, and sister of Frederic William IV., the 
j^reseut king. She was born July 13, 1798, and her dis- 
tmguishing name was Charlotte, but on her marriage and 
entering the Greek Church she assumed the names of 
Alexandra Feodorowna. 

The Emperor Alexander I. having no issue, his next 
brother Constantine was the legitimate heir to the throne ; 
but by a document signed August 28, 1823, Constantine 
renounced his right, reserving to himself the dignity of 
Viceroy of Poland ; so that when Alexander died at Tagan- 
rog, December 1, 1825, Nicholas immediately succeeded 
him. He did not, however, become emperor without a 
struggle, attended with much danger. An extensive con- 
spiracy had been organized a considerable time before the 
death of Alexander, among the officers of the Russian 
army and those of the nobility who were friendly to a 
constitutional government ; and the soldiers and people 
were taught to believe that the abdication of the Grand 
Duke Constantine had been obtained by forcible means. 
When the trooj^s were assembled in the great square fronts 
ing the Imperial Winter Palace of St. Petersburg, in order 
to make a manifestation of their allegiance to the new 
Emperor, the officers, just as the ceremony was about to 
commence, stepping forward out of the ranks, denounced 
Nicholas as a usurper, and proclaimed Constantine as their 
rightful czar. The soldiers followed their officers, with 
cries of " Constantine and the Constitution ! " Milardowich, 
Governor of St. Petersburg, a veteran favorite of the army, 
and the archbishop, in his ecclesiastical robes, endeavored 
to suppress the hostile demonstration, but in vain, and the 
people showed signs of sympathizing with the troops. At 
this critical moment Nicholas came forward, and boldly 
confronting the officers and soldiers, called out with a loud 
voice, " Return to your ranks — obey — kneel ! " The 
Czar's majestic form and undaunted bearing, his pale but 



THE EMPEROR NICHOLAS. 271 

calm and stern couutenence, and the reverence with which 
the Russians habitually regard their sovereign, caused most 
of the soldiers to kneel and ground their arms. The first 
outbreak was thus checked; but the conspiracy was not 
suppressed till artillery and musketry had poured freely 
their missiles of destruction among the gathering masses of 
the insurrectionists. Colonel Pestel and four other leaders 
of the conspiracy were executed. Others were sent to the 
mines of Siberia, where Nicholas continued their punish- 
ment with unappeasable severity. He was crowned at 
Moscow with great pomp and ceremony, September 3, 
1826; and at Warsaw May 24, 1829. 

Soon after his coronation, in 1826, the Emperor Nicholas 
commenced a war with the Shah of Persia, which lasted 
till the victory over the Persians by Field-Marshal Paske- 
vich, February 28, 1828, led to the Treaty of Turkmanchai, 
by which the Shah, besides undertaking to pay about three 
millions sterling, ceded to Russia the provinces of Erivan 
and the countries situated on the lower Kour and the 
Aras. A war between Russia and Turkey ensued in 1828, 
during which the Russian army crossed the Danube and 
took the fortresses of Braila and Varna, In the campaign 
of 1820, General Diebitch took the fortress of Silistria, de- 
feated the main army of the Turks at Shumla, crossed the 
Balkan, and advanced to Adrianople, where a treaty of 
peace was signed September 14, 1829. By this treaty, 
Nicholas obtained for Russia, besides a large sum as indem- 
nification for the expenses of the war, liberty to trade in 
all parts of the Turkish Empire, trading navigation on the 
Danube, free passage of the Dardanelles, the fortress and 
pashalic of Anapa on the eastern coast of the Black Sea, 
and other additions of territory as well as of political 
power. 

On the twenty-ninth of November, 1830, an insurrection 
broke out in Poland. The Polish troops having joined the 
insurrectionists, the Grand Duke Constantine, as command- 



272 THE COURT OF RUSSIA. 

er-in-chief, was allowed to retire from Poland with 8000 
Russians. In January, 1831, the Polish Diet declared the 
throne vacant, organized a national government under 
Prince Adam Czartoryski, and prepared for a vigorous 
defence of their country. They assembled about 60,000 
troops ; but the Russian armies which advanced against 
them numbered about 130,000, and had about 400 pieces 
of artillery. The Poles fought bravely, and were success- 
ful in several actions, but sustained an enormous loss at 
the battle of Ostrolenka, May 26, 1831. The Prussian gov- 
ernment prevented the Poles getting supplies of anns and 
ammunition across their frontier, while the Russians were 
allowed to have magazines within the Prussian territory. 
General Diebitch died suddenly on the ninth of June, and 
was succeeded by Paskevich. Warsaw was besieged on the 
sixth of September, and surrendered on the eighth. The 
failure of this insurrection was disastrous to the Poles. 
The Emperor Nicholas treated them with rigorous sever- 
ity : several were sent to the mines of Siberia, and many 
to serve as soldiers in the Caucasus ; the Polish constitu- 
tion was formally abrogated ; the chief universities were 
suppressed, and the libraries removed to St. Petersburg ; 
and on the seventeenth of Maixh, 1832, by a decree of 
the Emperor, the kingdom of Poland was incorporated with 
the Russian empire. 

In 1837 the Emperor Nicholas made a tour in his Trans- 
Caucasian provinces. He travelled with great rapidity, but 
remained at Tifiis from the twentieth to the twenty-fourth 
of October, reviewed the troops, gave dinners and a grand 
ball, and held a levee, which was attended by all persons 
of distinction in the provinces. He paid a visit of ins|3ec- 
tion to the fortress of Gumri, since named Alexandropol, 
near the frontier of Turkish Armenia, and about forty-five 
miles east by north from Kars. It was then in process 
of construction, and is now a fortified position of great 
strength either for defence or offence against the Turks m 



THE EMPEROR NICHOLAS. 273 

Asia Minor. A desultory conflict was at this period car- 
ried on between the Russians and Circassians ; but in 1839 
war was fonnally declared by Eussia against the Circas- 
sians, and has continued with Uttle intermission ever since. 
In 1844 the Emperor Nicholas paid a second visit to Eng- 
land, and was entertained by Queen Victoria at Bucking- 
ham Palace and Windsor Castle from the first to the ninth 
of June. In 1849 he sent a Russian army into Hungary in 
aid of the Austrians, and the subjugation of that country 
was accomplished in the month of August of that year. 

The last and most important event in the reign of the 
Emperor Nicholas was the recent war with Tiu'key and 
the Westei'n Powers. It was the only unsuccessful and 
disastrous war in which he had engaged, and the reverses 
his army experienced probably occasioned a degree of ex- 
citement and irritation which shortened his life. It was 
commenced by the Emperor's minister, Menzikoff, in March, 
1853, demanding a right of protectorate over those subjects 
of the Sultan who belong to the Greek Church. The claim 
was refused, and a Russian anny occupied Moldavia and 
Wallachia as a "material guaranty" for enforcing it. In 
October the same year the Porte declared war against 
Russia, and apphed to France and England for their prom- 
ised aid. A Turkish army under Omar Pasha occupied 
Shumla and the fortresses on the Danube ; in November 
he threw a body of troops across the river opposite Wid- 
din, and fortified a position at Oltenitza, on the left bank, 
which was retained till the termination of the war. The 
destruction of the Turkish fleet at Smope, in the same 
month, was followed by the advance of the French and 
English fleets into the Black Sea. The EngUsh and French 
armies were next landed and encamped near Constantmo- 
ple, whence they removed to the vicinity of Varna. In 
March, 1854, the Russian army crossed the Danube, and 
besieged the fortress of Silistria, but after great efforts and 
an enormous loss of men was compelled to raise the siege 

35 



274 THE COURT OF RUSSIA. 

on the fifteenth of June, and to retreat across the Danube. 
The Anglo-French army landed in the Crimea September 
14, 1854; won the battle of the Alma; by a flank march 
seized a position on the south side of Sebastopol, and com- 
menced the siege, which, after a severe struggle, the facts 
of which are well known, was terminated on the eighth 
and ninth of September, 1855, by the capture of the town 
and all the forts on the southern side of the harbor of 
Sebastopol. 

Nicholas was left alone to fight the combined armies 
of France, England, Sardinia, and Turkey. The repeated 
defeats and losses of his formidable annies and fleets pro- 
duced a deep effect upon his powerful constitution, and 
hastened his death, the more immediate cause of which 
was atrophy of the lungs. For some time previously he 
had been violently affected with influenza. He became 
worse by degrees from want of sleep and increased cough; 
but, notwithstanding the remonstrances of his physicians, 
he continued to attend to his usual occupations ; and on 
February second inspected some troops who were about to 
march into Lithuania. In the evening he was present at 
the prayers for the first week of Lent, but complained of 
being cold. From that evening he did not leave his httle 
working room. On February twenty-third he sent for his 
adjutant, Colonel Tottenborn, and despatched him to Sebas- 
topol. During the whole time he was ill, he lay on his 
camp-bed, consisting of a casuig of Russian leather fiUed 
with hay, a bolster of the same kind, with a blanket and 
his cloak over him. It was not tiU February twenty-eighth 
that his state was looked upon as decidedly serious. From 
that time he became rapidly worse ; the physicians appre- 
hended a paralysis of the lungs, and despaired of his re- 
covery on the evening of March first. He cahnly received 
the report of the physician in regard to his critical con- 
dition, and took the last sacraments early on the morning 
of March second. He then took leave of the Empress, 



THE EMPEROR NICHOLAS. 275 

their children and grandchildren, and blessed each one of 
them with a firm voice. He next sent for Counts OrlofF 
and Alderberg and Prince Dolgoruki, thanking them for 
their fidelity, and bidding them farewell. Subsequently he 
took leave of the servants unmediately about his person, 
on which occasion he is said to have been much affected. 
Last of all Madame Rohrbeck, the lady in waiting of the 
Empress, was sent for, whom he begged never to quit her 
mistress. While his father confessor was speaking to him, 
he took the Empress's hand and put it into the priest's. 
After this he lost his speech for a while, during which time 
he was engaged in prayer and crossed himself repeatedly. 
He subsequently regained his voice, and spoke from time 
to time up to his decease, which took j^lfice without a 
struggle, in the presence of the whole family, at ten min- 
utes past noon. 

The Emperor Nicholas died at St. Petersburg on the 
second of March, 1855, and was succeeded by the present 
Emperor, Alexander II. The Empress Alexandra survives 
him ; and he has left issue four sons and two daughters : 
Alexander, born April 29, 1818 ; Maria, born August 18, 
1819; Olga, born September 11, 1822; Constantine, born 
September 21, 1827; Nicholas, born August 8, 1831; and 
Michael, born October 25, 1832. 

The Emperor Nicholas was upwai'ds of six feet in height, 
muscular and well-proportioned, with handsome featin^es. In 
his personal habits he was simple, abstemious, and inde- 
fatigably industrious. He had a taste for the fine arts, and 
for music, and is stated to have composed some military 
airs ; but his favorite pursuits were connected with the 
military sciences and military operations. In his political 
principles he was professedly despotic. He had been heard 
to say, " Despotism is the very essence of my government, 
and it suits the genius of my land." The great objects of 
his puljlic life were the increase of the power of Eussia 
ancf the extension of her territories to the east, west, and 



276 THE COURT OF RUSSIA. 

south, by unscrupulous diplomacy, and when that foiled, by 
war. His grand purpose is now known to have been the 
possession of Constantinople. By means of that unrivalled 
military and political position, he trusted to have super- 
seded the Sultan in his empire, and to have become the 
dominant power in Europe and Asia. 




ik L- X F, ik m BE m fl , 



ALEXANDER II, EMPEROR OF RUSSIA. 



Alexander II., the present Emperor of all the Russias, 
was the eldest sou of the late Emperor Nicholas and the 
Empress Alexandra Feodorowna. This name his mother 
assumed on her marriage, as it is the custom with females, 
on marrying into the Imperial family, to change their 
names with their religion, on bemg admitted into the 
Greek Church ; before marriage she was the Princess Fre- 
derica Louisa Charlotte Wilhelmma, sister of Frederic Wil- 
liam, King of Prussia. Alexander was bom on the twenty- 
ninth of April, 1818. He was educated with great care, 
and entered very early into the military service, in wliich, 
of course, durmg his fither's lifetune he was invested with 
a numerous variety of honorary commands, but is said not 
to have evinced any remarkable military aptitude, though 
by no means destitute of talent and iutelligeuce. On the 
twenty-eighth of April, 1841, he married Maximilienne Wil- 
helmina Augusta Sophia Maria, daughter of Louis 11., Grand 
Duke of Hesse, by whom he has had four sons and a 
daughter ; the eldest son, Nicholas Alexandrowitch, now 
the Czai'owitch, or Crown-Prince, was born on September 
20, 1843. On the death of the Emperor Nicholas, on 
March 2, 1855, Alexander succeeded to the throne, and to 
the conduct of the war against the united forces of Tur- 
key, France, England, and Sardinia. As Crown-Prince, he 
has been represented as opposed to the warlike policy of 
the late emperor ; but almost his first step after his acces- 
sion was to issue a proclamation expressing his determina- 
tion to cany out completely the plans and intentions of 



278 THE COURT OF RUSSIA. 

his predecessor; and to this determination he has hitherto 
held with great firmness. On September 8, 1855, the alHes 
obtained possession of Sebastopol, as they had somewhat 
earHer of Kertch and Yenicale, and somewhat later of 
Kinburn. In October and November following, he in per- 
son visited the scene of the most active hostihties, Nico- 
laiefF, Odessa, and the Crimea, encouraging the soldiery to 
renewed efforts ; and at other times has made progresses 
through various parts of his dominions, endeavoring to les- 
sen as much as possible the unpopularity of the contest 
with a great portion of his subjects, occasioned by the 
enormous conscriptions levied upon them in order to sup- 
ply the terrible losses experienced by his armies. 

During the ensuing winter, the neutral German Powers, 
especially Prussia and Saxony, finding Louis Napoleon not 
averse to peace, mediated officiously. An armistice was 
concluded between the belligerents in March, 1856 ; a con- 
ference convoked at Paris, and a final treaty there on the 
thirteenth of that month, put an end to the war. Russia 
lost by it a small slice of land in Bessarabia, and her naval 
preponderance in the Black Sea. The nation, as well as 
the Czar, thus learned by costly experience to know all 
the deficiencies of the system which his predecessor had 
pushed to the utmost extreme. Since the peace Alexander 
has devoted himself to putting Russia on a more healthy 
footing. In this career his actions have hitherto exhibited 
a humane, broad, elastic, and truly liberal spirit. Every- 
where he has relaxed the lines drawn to the utmost ten- 
sion by his predecessoi'. Above all, he is emancipating the 
nation from the military routine which permeates every 
branch of the administration. He has reorganized the 
army, and freed the people for the space of four years 
from military recruitment. He has also dissolved a greater 
part of the military colonies, freed public instruction from 
military discipline. He has given a new unpiiise to in- 
ternal industry and trade ; at the same time he ^eeks to 



ALEXANDER II., EMPEROR OF RUSSIA. 279 

develop the national commercial marine and to induce na- 
tive merchants to extend their relations to foreign coun- 
tries. He has annulled the impediments which prevented 
Russians from visiting foreign lands, and has granted a 
general amnesty for political offenders, Poles and Russians ; 
recalling the exiled from Siberia, and allowing fugitives to 
return ; and is employing the whole energy of the govern- 
ment and nation in the work of covering his immense em- 
pire with nets of railroads. He is religious, and sincerely 
attached to the national church, but without fanaticism. 
He continues still engaged in the vast work of improve- 
ment, in all the departments of his empire and among all 
classes of his subjects of the different languages and con- 
ditions. 

The coronation ceremonies of the Emperor Alexander 
and his Empress surpassed all pageants of modei-n times in 
imperial grandeur and magnificence. The extended ac- 
count of this great occasion, which follows this sketch, will 
add interest both to the personalities of the Emperor and 
the Empress. 




Eugrajrei oa Steel 



■brGec-E-Fet-iTie, 1 



\^m MAJESTV TKIE EMKPURESS ©IF 1RIUSS[ 



THE EMPRESS OF RUSSIA. 



The Emperor Alexander II., the present ruler of the 
colossal Empire of Russia, is consort to the original of the 
beautiful portrait which stands at the head of this brief 
biographical sketch. The portrait, in its artistic beauty, 
will speak for itself, even though the lips utter no sound. 
This portrait, with its expressive lineaments and imperial 
dignity and grace, is copied from a photograph of life. It 
will be readily acknowledged by all lovers of art that the 
engraver has exerted almost inunitable skiU in its execu- 
tion, deserving high praise. The delicacy and artistic per- 
fection in the outline and finish of the face, and the 
accurate drawing of the dress and drapery, with the orna- 
ments which adorn the person of the Empress, combine in 
presenting an object upon which the eye must dwell with 
pleasure. The perusal of the coronation ceremonies will 
bring to view, by graphic description, the person of the 
Empress as she appeared in her imperial robes on that 
august occasion. 

Maximilienne Wilhelmina Augusta Sophia Maria — now 
Marie Alexandrowna — the present Empress of Russia, is 
the daughter of Louis II., Grand Duke of Hesse Darmstadt. 
She was born in 1824 ; her husband, the Emperor, April 
29, 1818. Alexander, then a prince, made his choice 
among a host of German princesses. He fixed his choice 
on the Grand Duchess Marie. It is said to have been al- 
together a love-match. They were married April 28, 1841. 
They have four sons and a daughter. The eldest son, 
Nicholas Alexandrowitch, Crown-Prince, was bom September 

36 



282 THE COURT OF RUSSIA. 

20, 1843. On the death of the Emperor Nicholas, March 
2, 1855, Alexander II. ascended the throne, and the two 
became Emijeror and Empress of Russia. They were 
crowned at Moscow, amid the most august scenes and 
.splendor the world has ever beheld. As the Emperor and 
Empress passed down the Cathedral of Moscow, all eyes 
were turned to the beauty and majesty of the Empress, 
surrounded by her ladies of honor and a vast multitude of 
admiring spectators. 



IMPEEIAL CORONATION AT MOSCOW. 



The Emperor Alexander II. and the Empress were 
crowned at Moscow with the most august ceremonies, on 
the twenty-ninth of August, 1856, in tlie presence of many 
distinguislied personages from most of the governments of 
the world. This great occasion formed a most interesting 
chapter in the history of the Court of Russia. The follow- 
ing account of the various ceremonies is from the pen of 
William Howard Russell, Esq., who was an eye-witness of 
the scenes described : — 

It was a magnificent wonder, surpassing all precedent in 
modern times, costing the Russian government five millions 
of dollars in its various ceremonies and gorgeous spectacles. 
The vast gathering of military and tributary chieftains and 
other celebrities from various lands and governments, as well 
as an innumerable crowd of other personages of less note, 
must have added greatly to the scene of imjiosing grandeur. 

It would be as difficult to describe this dazzling pageant 
as it would be to give an accurate account of a grand 
spectacle at the theatre. In all its component parts it was 
magnificent and effective. The wealth of a vast empire 
was poured out with a profuseness almost barbaric, and 
displayed with a taste founded on Oriental traditions, and 
modified by European civilization. Instead of a narrow 
stage, the scene was laid in the ancient metropolis of the 
largest empire the world has ever seen ; instead of tinsel 
and mock finery, gold and silver and diamonds flashed in 
the real sunlight. He who played the part of an Emperor 
was indeed an Empei'or; and those who appeared as em- 



284 THE COURT OF RUSSIA. 

presses, marshals, and soldiers, were what they seemed to 
be ; but after all, when amid the blare of trumpets, the 
clanging of bells, and the roar of the populace, the gloi'i- 
ous pageant had passed away in a parti-colored blaze of 
light, wliat was left but the recollection of the transitory 
pleasure of the eye, and of the indescribable excitement 
Avhicli the memory in vain endeavored to recall of all that 
had at the moment produced such irresistible effects ? 

It may foirly be asserted that no stranger who was pres- 
ent ever beheld the like of the ceremonial of to-da}'. It 
was quite siii generis, — the devotion and highly- excited 
religious feeling of the sovereign and his people, and their 
acts of public prostration, recalled the faith, or, at all 
events, the practices, of past ages, and offered a strange 
contrast to the actuality of the military power combined 
with this national fliith which menaces the future rather 
tlian the present. The gorgeousness of the carriages and 
uniforms, liveries and horse -trappings, was worthy of the 
Ca3sars, or some of the great Oriental conquerors ; and it 
is said that the coronation will cost Russia no less than 
six million roubles, or one million pounds sterling. 

THE EMPEROR'S APPROACH. 

At last the men stand to their arms for the third time, 
and a limn of many suppressed voices runs along the 
streets. A dull heavy noise, like the single beat of a deep 
drmn, is heard a long way ofE It is the first coiq) de can- 
non of the nine which announces that the Emperor is on 
his way to the entrance of his ancient capital. In a mo- 
ment, far and wide, the chimes of some four hundred 
churches, scattered, as it were, broadcast all over the great 
city, ring out their stupendous clamor, which is musical in 
the depth of its tumult, and the crowd settles into an atti- 
tude of profound expectation and repose. 

In a few moments more the flourishing of trumpets and 



IMPERIAL CORONATION AT MOSCOW. 285 

the strains of martial music rise above all this tumult, and 
the trumi^et band of the Rifles of the Guard, close at 
hand, commence with a wild aleiie, which is subdued after 
a time to the measure of a quick march. A few moments 
of susjDense pass heavily, and at length there appears on 
the red path of sand which looks like a carjiet spread in 
the roadway, a small pai'ty of Gendarmes-a-Cheval, preceded 
by a maitre de j^ollcc in full uniform. He is a soldier every 
inch, from plumed casque to spur, mounted on a prancing 
war-horse, and clad in a rich uniform ; two and two, one 
at each side of the way, his gendarmes follow him in light 
blue uniform with white facings, and with helmets and 
plumes also. They are fine-looking dragoons, and ride 
splendid horses. Behind them — but who shall describe 
these warlike figures which come on to their owm music 
of clinking steel and jingling of armor ? They fill up the 
whole roadway with a flood of color. Such might have 
been the Crusaders, or rather such might have been the 
Knights of Salad in, when the Cross and the Crescent met 
in battle. Mounted on high-bred, spirited horses, which are 
covered with rich trappings of an antique character, the 
escort of the Emperor comes by, and calls us at once back 
to the days of Ivan the Terrible. Their heads are covered 
with a fine chain- armor, — so fine, indeed, that some of 
them wear it as a veil before their faces. This mail flills 
over the neck and covers the back and chest, and beneath 
it glisten rich doublets of yellow silk. Some of the escort 
carry lances with bright pennons. All armed with antique 
carabines, pistols, and curved swords. Their saddles are 
crested with silver, and rich scarfs and sashes decorate 
their waists. Their handsome fiices and slight, sinewy 
frames indicate their origin. These are of that Circassian 
race, which, mingling its blood with the Turks, liave re- 
moved from them that stigma of excessive ugliness that 
once, according to old historians, affrighted Europe. Their 
influence on the old Muscovite type is said to be equally 



286 THE COURT OF RUSSIA. 

great; and the families wlilcli are allied with the Circas- 
sians, Mingrelians, or Georgians, exhibit, Ave are told, a 
marked difterence from the pure and mimixed breed of 
Russian origin. 

The whole breadth of the street was now occupied by a 
glittering mass of pennons, armor, plumes, steel, and bright 
colors ; the air was filled with the sounds of popular de- 
light, the champing of bits and clinking of weapons, the 
flourishing of trumpets, and, above all, the loud voices of 
the bells. Close behind the Circassian escort and the wild 
Bashkirs comes a squadron of the Division of the Black- 
Sea Cossacks of the Guard, in large, flat, black sheepskin 
caps, with red skull-pieces, long lances, the shafts painted 
red, and the pennons colored blue, white, and red ; their 
jackets of scarlet; their horses small, handsome, and full 
of spirit. 

The forest of red lance-shafts through which one looked 
gave a most curious aspect to the gay cavalcade. A 
squadron of the Regiment of Cossacks of the Guard, in 
l)lue, follows. Except in the shape of the head-dress, which 
is like one of our shakos in the olden time, and the 
color of their uniform, these men resemble the Black-Sea 
Cossacks. 

There follows after these four hundred Cossacks a large 
body of the haide nohkssc on horseback and in uniform, two 
and two, headed by the Marshal of the Nol)iIity ibr the 
District of Moscow. Nearly all of these nobles are in mili- 
tary uniforms ; those who are not, wear the old Russian 
boyard's dress, — a tunic glistening with precious stones, 
golden belts studded with diamonds, and high caps with 
aigrettes of brilliants. On their breasts are orders, stars, 
crosses, ribbons, innumerable. Menschikofts, Rostopchins, 
Galitzins, Woronzofls, Gortschakofts, Strogonofis, Chereme- 
tiefis, Platofl^s, Tolstoys, and the bearers of many other 
names imknown in Western Europe before the last cen- 
tury, are there carrying whole fortunes on their backs, the 



impp:rial coronation at Moscow. 287 

rulers and masters of millions of their fellow-men ; but, 
brilliant as they are, the interest they excite soon passes 
away when the next gorgeous cavalcade approaches. 



THE ASIATIC DEPUTIES. 

This consists of the deputies of the various Asiatic j^ai- 
pladcs, or races which have submitted to Russia, all on 
horseback, two by two. Here may be seen the costume 
of every age at one view, and all as rich as wealth, old 
family treasures, hoarded plunder, and modern taste, can 
make it. Bashkirs and Circassians, Tcherkess, Abassiaus, in 
coats of mail and surcoats of fine chain -armor, Calmucks, 
Tartars of Kazan and the Crimea, Mingrelians, Karapapaks, 
Daghistanhis, Ai-menians, the people of Gouriel and Geor- 
gia, the inhabitants of the borders of the Caspian, Kurds, 
people of Astrakhan, Samoiedes, wild mountaineers from dis- 
tant ranges to which the speculations of even the " Hert- 
fordshire Incumbent" have never wandered, Chinese from 
the Siberian frontiers, Mongols, and sti'ange beings like 
Caliban in courtrdress. Some of them had their uncovered 
hair plaited curiously with gold coins ; others wore on the 
head only a small flat plate of precious metal just over 
the forehead ; others sheepskin head-dresses studded with 
jewels ; old matchlocks that might have rung on the bat- 
tle-fields of Ivan Veliki, battle-axes, lances, cimeters, and 
daggers of every form, were borne by this gaudy throng; 
whose mode of riding oliered every possible variety of the 
way in which a man can sit on a horse. Some rode with- 
out stirrups, loose and graceful as the Greek w.arriors who 
hve on the friezes of the Parthenon ; others sat in a sort 
of legless arm-chair, with their knees drawn up after the 
manner of sartorial equestrians. Every sort of bit, bridle, 
saddle, and horse- trapping which has been used since 
horses were subjugated to man, could be seen here. Some 
of the saddle-cloths and holsters were of surpassing rich- 



288 THE COURT OF RUSSIA. 

ness and sj^leiiclor- In the midst of all these cavaliers, two 
attracted particular notice. One was a majestic-looking 
Turk, with an enormous beard and a towering turban, 
whose garments were of such a rich material and strange 
cut, that one was reminded immediately of the high priest 
in Kembrandt's picture, or of the old engravings of the 
sultan in old books of travel. The other was a young 
deputy from Gouriel, with clustering hair flowing down in 
curls from beneath a small patch of gold and jewels fixed 
on the top of the head, whose face and figure were strilc- 
ingly handsome, and who was dressed in a magnificent 
suit of blue velvet cramoisi, flashing with precious stones. 
lie was a veritable Eastern Antinous, and was well matched 
with his beautiful horse. This cavalcade of the '■^ jjeuplades 
sownises a la Rtissie" was to strangers the most interesting 
part of the procession ; but it passed too quickly by for 
the eye to decompose its ingredients. What stories of the 
greatness and magnificence of Russia did those people take 
back to their remote tribes ! They went by, bi'ight, shift- 
ing, and indistinct as a dream of the Arabian Nights. 

THE EMPEROR'S HOUSEHOLD. 

The ceremony is now becoming most exciting, for the 
carriages come in view round the turn of the street. They 
are preceded, however, by the piqiieiir of the Empei'or on 
horseback, and twenty huntsmen in full livery, after whom 
rides in great grandeur, the Head Huntsman, — the master 
of the Emperor's hounds, or the Chef de la Venerie Impenale. 
The first vehicle is an open phaeton gilt richly from stem 
to stern, and lined with crimson velvet, drawn by six noble 
horses with the richest trajipings ; at the head of each 
horse there is a footman in cocked-hat, green and gold 
livery, buckskins, and patent-leather jack-boots, who holds 
his charge by a richly-embossed rein ; the driver, barring 
his livery, seems to have been abstracted from Bucking- 



IMPERIAL CORONATION AT MOSCOW. 289 

ham Palace. In this gay vehicle are .seated, in uniforms 
of green and gold, two Masters of the Ceremonies of the 
Court, with huge wands of office. This description, jjoor 
as it is, must suffice for the next open phaeton and its 
paraphernalia, in which is seated the Grand Master of 
the Ceremonies. After this carriage comes a Master of the 
Ceremonies, on horsel^ack, followed by twenty-four Gentle- 
men of the Chamber, mounted on jichly caparisoned 
horses, riding two and two. Another Master of the Cere- 
monies is next seen, preceding a cavalcade of twelve 
moimted chamberlains, who are stiff with gold lace, and 
covered with orders and ribbons. Ilavinu' K'ot rid of an 
officer of the Imperial stables, who looks very like a field- 
marshal, and two Palefreniers in uniforms too rich for an 
English General, we turn our attention to the followmg 
objects : The second " ChunjiS dc la Cour" in gilt cai'riages, 
four and four, ciimson velvet linings, green and gold loot- 
men, and fine horses. Next the Marshal of the Court, in 
an open phaeton, gilt all over, with his grand baton of 
office flashing with gems. Next, the Grand " Charges de la 
Oour," by four, in gilt and crimson carriages, all and each 
diawn like the first, with riuniing footmen and rich trap- 
pings, — 

" All clinquant — all in gold like heathen gods ; 
Every man tliat walked .'iliowed like a mine." 

The memljers of the Imperial Council, in gilt carriages, 
followed the Grand " Charges," — all that is esteemed wise 
in Russia, skilful in dijilomacy, and venerated for past ser- 
vices, grave, astute, and polished nobles and gentlemen, 
whose lives have been spent in devoted efforts for the 
aggrandizement of their country, and the promotion of the 
interests of their Imjijerial master — their breasts bear wit- 
ness to the favor mth which they have been regarded. It 
is with strange feelings one gazes on the representatives 
of a policy so crafty and so ambitious as that which is 

37 



290 THE COURT OF RUSSIA 

attributed to the Eussian Court, and which in this nine- 
teenth century is supported by no inconsiderable part of 
the learning and logic of the statesmen of Europe. 



THE EMPEROR'S BODY GUARDS. 

As the last of the train of carriages passes, a noise like 
distant thimder rolling along the street annoimces the ap- 
jiroach of the Czar. But his presence is grandly heralded. 
Immediately after the meml:)ers of the Council of the Em- 
pire, the Grand Marshal of the Court rides in an open 
phaeton, gilt like the rest ; but, bright as is he and all 
about him, there comes after that compared with the lustre 
of which he is as a mote in the sun. In gilt casques of 
beautiful form and workmanship, surmounted by crest eagles 
of silver or gold, in milk-white coats and gilded cuirasses 
and back-plates, apjjroach the giants of the first squadron 
of the Chevaliers Gardes of his Majesty the Emperor, each 
on a chai'ger fit for a commander in battle. These are 
the picked men of sixty millions of the human race ; and 
in stature they certainly exceed any troops I have ever 
seen. AU their appomtments are splendid ; but it is said 
that they looked better in the days of the late Emperor, 
when they wore white buckskins and jack-boots, than they 
do now in their long trousers. The squadron was probaldy 
two hundred strong, and the effect of the polished hel- 
mets, crests, and armor, was dazzling. Their officers could 
scarcely be distinguished, excejit by their position and the 
extraordinary beauty and training of some of their horses, 
which slowly beat time, as it were, with their hoofs to the 
strains of the march. Tiie First Squadron of the Garde a 
Cheval foUows : — 

" All furnishod — all in arms. 
All plumed like estridges that wing the wind ; 
Bated like eagles having lately bathed, 
Glittering in golden coats like images." 



IMPERIAL CORONATION AT MOSCOW. 291 

So bright, so fine, that one is puzzled to decide which, 
they or the Chevahers, are the bravest. 



THE CZAR. 

The tremendous cheei-ing of the people and the meas- 
ured hurrahs of the soldiers, the dofl'ed hats and the rever- 
ences of the crowd, the waving of handkerchiefs and the 
clash of presenting anns, warn us that the " Czar of all 
the Russias, of the Kingdom of Poland, and of the Grand 
Duchy of Finland, which are inseparable from them," is 
at hand, and Alexander Nicolaievitch is before us. His 
Majesty is tall and well formed, although he does not in 
stature, or in grandeur of person, come near to his father. 
His face bears a resemblance to the portraits of the Em- 
peror Nicholas ; but the worshippers of his deceased Majesty 
declare that it is wanting in that wonderful power of eye 
and dignity and intelligence of expression which charac- 
terized the father. His Majesty is dressed in the uniform 
of a general officer, and seems quite simply attired after 
all the splendor which has gone past. He wears a bur- 
nished casque with a long plume of white, orange, and 
dark cock's feathers, a close fitting green tunic, with aguil- 
lettes and orders, and red trousers, and he guides his 
charger — a perfect model of symmetry — with ease and 
gracefulness. His features are full of emotion as he re- 
turns with a military salute on all sides the mad congrat- 
ulations of his people, who really act as though the Deity 
were incarnate before them. It is said that several times 
his eyes ran over with tears. To all he gives the same 
acknowledgment, — raising his extended hand to the side 
of his casque, so that the forefinger rises vertically by the 
rim in front of the ear. The effect of his presence is con- 
siderably marred by the proximity of his suite, who have 
gradually and perhaps unwittingly closed up till they are 
immediately behind his horse, instead of leaving him iso- 



292 THE COURT OF RUSSIA. 

lated, as lie was when he quitted the palace of Petrovsky. 
Thus it hajjpens that, before he reaches the spot where 
the spectator is jjlaced, he is nearly lost amid the crowd 
behind him ; and that the moment he passes, his figure is 
swallowed up in the plumed suite who follow at his heels. 
Amid this crowd of great people we all search out the 
Grand Duke Constantine, whose keen, stei'u eyes are pierc- 
ing each window as he rides along. A countenance with 
more iron will, resolution, and energy stamped upon it, one 
rarely sees; and the Russians are not unjustifiably proud 
of the ability and activity he displayed when the allied 
squadron was expected at Cronstadt. His features and 
form are cast in the Romanoft* mould, which the portraits 
of Alexander and Nicholas have made pretty well known 



THE WIDOWED EMPRESS. 

Thk Empress Alexandra Feodorowna, whose appearance 
excited the liveliest acclamations of the people, now passed 
before us, her feeble frame sustained by the part she had to 
play, so that she surprises those who know how weak and 
suffering she is, when they see her poric and the graceful 
and animated bearing with which she acknowledges the 
cheers of the multitude. " Ah ! " say they who think of 
the old court, " who would ever imagine that she, who 
was as a feather in the air suspended by a breath, should 
live to see this day, and that he — son Dieu — should have 
died before her ! " Her Majesty was right royally and im- 
perially attired, but how I cannot say. A cloud of light 
drapery, through which diamonds shone like stars, floated 
around her, and on her head was a tiara of brilliants. The 
carriage in which she sat was a triumph of splendor, — all 
gold and crimson velvet ; and on the roof, which was com- 
posed of similar materials, was the likeness of an Imperial 
crown. Tlie eight horses, which were attached to the car- 



IMPERIAL CORONATION AT MOSCOW. 293 

riage by trappings and cords of gold, were the most beau- 
tiful in the Imperial stables, and each was led with a 
golden bridle by a jjalelrenier in grand livery. To hide 
from her the coachman's back, perforce turned towards her 
Majesty's flice, there was an array of little pages who sat 
outside the coach on the rail with their backs towards the 
coachman's, and their round visages visa-cis that of the Em- 
jiress. 

THE KREMLIN. 

The Czar is now the Lord's anointed. The great cere- 
mony which has consecrated his power in the eyes of so 
many millions of his suly'ects has been performed with 
rare precision and success, and with a magnificence to 
which no historical j^ageant known to me can claim supe- 
riority. The day — how much of our grandest effoi-ts de- 
pend on that which we cannot control — was beautiful. 
At sunrise all Moscow was up and stirring, and ere it was 
day the hum of voices and the tramp of feet rose from 
the streets. At six o'clock the Kremlin was assaidted by 
a sea of human beings, who lashed themselves angrily 
against the gates, and surged in lil\^e waves through the 
portals. This is to the Russians what the Tower, St. 
Paul's, Westminster Abbey, the cathedrals, and the univer- 
sities, all in one, would be to an Englishman : " It is the 
heart and the soul of Moscow, as Moscow is the heart and 
the soul of Eussia." It is her historical monument and the 
temple of her faith. Against these walls have been broken 
the hordes which for so many centuries sought to destroy in 
its cradle the Hercules which was born to crush them ; and 
within them have passed most of the great events which are 
the landmarks in Russian history. Here is all that is most 
precious and most sacred to the Russian race, — the tombs 
of the kings, dukes, and czars, the palaces, the cathedrals, 
the treasures, the tribunals, the holy images, the miraculous 
relics, so dear to this giant of the Sclavonic race. In form 



294: THE COURT OF RUSSIA. 

it is an irregular polygon witli a tower at each angle of 
the walls. It is bounded by the river on one side, and by 
boidevards marking the course of an ancient stream, now 
as dry as Cephisus, on the other, and its walls define ac- 
curately the size of the whole city of Moscow in the days 
of the early czars. 

THE CROWN JEWELS. 

From the Salle d' Alexandre we pass on to the Hall of 
St. Andrew, at the end of which is the Imperial throne in 
purjile and gold, with seven steps ascending to it. Above 
is emblazoned "X'ffi7 dc Dieu" surrounded by a golden 
glory. The walls are covered with blue, the color of St. 
Andrew ribbon, with the armorial bearings of all the king- 
doms, jjrincipalities, duchies, and provinces of the Russian 
Empire ; and between the windows are represented in gilt 
relief the chain and cross of the Apostle. At the upper 
end of the hall, on the left-hand side, there is a great 
crowd of persons at one side of a small table. They are 
feasting their eyes on the crown, the sceptre, and the 
globe, which will be used presently in the great ceremony 
of the day. The only praise that can be given to dia- 
monds belongs to those in the crown : they are very big 
and very bright. The crown is a cluster of Koh-i-noors, 
and there is a wreath of diamonds in the form of oak 
leaves around it which is dazzling as the sun himself 
Many of these brilliants are the size of pistol-balls of the 
good old duelling diameter. As to the sceptre, there is a 
tip to it formed of a flunous diamond, which one is almost 
afraid to talk about. I really would not venture to state 
how large it seems to be, and shall content myself by say- 
ing that this is the jjrecious stone for which Catherine 11. 
gave nearly £80,000 and a large pension for life to a run- 
away slave. ( Vide every story-book.) Turning away from 
tho.se important ingredients in the ceremonial of to-day, let 



& 



IMPERIAL CORONATION AT MOSCOW. 295 

US look at what is curious or worthy of notice in the hall 
itself. The diamonds will remain forever, and will be just 
regarded with the same feehng of traditionary admiration 
as they are now, till some chemist fashion them, like 
Prince Rupert's drops, by the dozen. There are objects 
here which will not last so long. 



THE MEN WHO FOUGHT AGAINST NAPOLEON I. 

In two long lines, from door to door of the Hall of St. 
Andrew and of the Hall of St. George, are drawn up the 
Grenadiers of the Palace, the veterans of the last war. To 
me those fine old soldiers were more interesting and air 
tractive than all the display of riches and the blaze of gold 
and silver around and above us. Then" dress recalled the 
days of those Titanic struggles which shook all Eiu-oj^e. 
The huge bear-skin cap, with white tassels, and gilt cords, 
the ample, broad-chested coatee and cross-belts, and the 
white pantaloons with many buttons at the outer side from 
the knee to the foot, reminded one of the time when 
Kutusoft' and Bliicher and Murat and Wellington were the 
heroes of flist-reciu-ring Ijattles. These men are picked 
from various regiments, with some regard perhaps to size, 
but certainly with undoubted claims on the score of ser- 
vice, for there is not one of them who does not bear five 
or six ribbons and crosses or medals on his breast. As 
you walk along that wall of soldiers, it is difficult to be- 
lieve that they have lived luider three Emperors, and have 
fought against the great Napoleon. They are all in perfect 
preservation. The only thing to betray old age is a cer- 
tain stiffiiess about the knee, and those implacable and in- 
vincible and inevitable wrinkles which will come upon us 
as records of so many lustres. The hair is jet black, the 
moustache is lustrous and dark as the boot which was 
wont to aftright the fd'mcv of our boyhood, and the whis- 
kers — for old Russia wore whiskers — are of the same fine 



296 THE COURT OF RUSSIA. 

jjolish. The surprise into wliicli you may l^e thrown at 
such evidences of juvenility on the part of men who have 
seen the horrors of the Beresina, and who beheld Murat 
turn his back at Yaroslavitz, is removed, however, when 
you see that the veteran who touches his moustache black- 
ens the fingers of his glove : he has had his hair dyed, just 
as his boots have been polished, — for effect. Some of these 
veterans are historical monuments — some have served un- 
der Suwaroff at Ismail and in Italy — others have marched 
triumphantly into Paris — others have crossed the Balkans 
with Diebitch. Of all their numerous decorations these 
veterans seem to prize the Paris medal and riljbon the 
most, and they point to it with great pride, though it 
hangs amid memorials of tremendous battle-fields. How 
these rugged old warriors, the relics of Austerlitz, Fried- 
land, Eylau, Pultowsk, and the Borodino, must smile in 
their hearts at the medal which has this day been given 
away to nearly all Russia on account of the late war. 
The line in which the soldiers were dressed was perfect ; 
the men were six paces apart, and from time to time the 
general on duty for the day moved up and down the 
ranks, took bearings with liis eye from breast to breast, 
and dressed them with his own hands. They were of dif- 
ferent height, being selected for merit and service; but on 
an average they were six feet high. 

In a quiet group, beside a golden pillar, stands Gortscha- 
koftj whose name will be ever associated with that masterly 
retreat which deprived France and England of half their 
triumph. When last the writer saw that gaunt, great 
figure it was stalking up the aisle of St. Paul's at the 
funeral of the great Duke. Since then years — and a few 
months which brought with them such cares as years sel- 
dom know — have bowed down his figure, and have 
wrinkled that broad, high brow. The Prince is covered 
with orders, crosses, and ribbons ; stars of diamonds glitter 



IMPERIAL CORONATION AT MOSCOW. 297 

ou his ))i-east; but there is an air of gravity and care al)Oiit 
him which shows that these honors have not been lightly 
bought. Ilis eyes are dim, and the use of a pair of black- 
mounted spectacles adds to the severity of the expression- 
of his face. 

PRINCE MENSCHIKOFF. 

In another spot Prince Menschikoff, who is still a favor- 
ite with the Russians, is speaking with his usual dryness 
of manner to an attentive little audience. The Prince is 
very sore respecting the criticism to which he has been 
exposed for his plan of defence at the Alma ; and the letr 
ters wliich have ajipeared in the public papers from him 
and liis accusers are a new feature in Russian journalism. 
The Prince's friends say that his plan was Irustrated I)y 
the neglect of the general who connnanded the left wing 
to carry out his instructions ; these were, to allow live or 
six battalions of the French to get up to the edge of the 
plateau, and then to attack them, and hurl them down on 
the columns ascending from below ; but instead of doing 
so, the general permitted nine or ten battalions and a liatr 
tery of artillery to crown the heights ere he assailed them 
with all his force ; and then they were too strong to be 
dislodged. However this may be, it is certain that the 
Russians regard Prince Menschikoff as the most accom- 
plished general they possess, so far as regards the theory 
of war. He is extremely well-read in many branches of 
learning, and is said to be as various and versatile as our 
own Achitophel — chemist, doctor, naturalist, geologist, law- 
yer, diplomatist, soldier, sailor, etc. His manner is imperi- 
ous and harsh, albeit he is given to theory and reverie 
rather than action, and he never " receives " at his house, 
or studies the arts of popularity. 

Amid these warriors and statesmen, ladies in full court 
dress are pressing towards the inner apartments of the 
palace, radiant with diamonds, for the display of which the 

38 



298 THE COURT OF RUSSIA. 

Muscovite head-dress now in vogue is peculiarly adapted. 
This i;onsists of a high circlet or coronet of satin velvet, 
or cloth, which encompasses the top of the head, and is 
studded with precious stones. Persians, in high black 
sheepskin caps, and rich loose dresses of finest silk, and 
gossamer shawls, — flat-faced Tartar deputies, wild delegates 
from the further Caspian littoral, Georgians, Circassians, 
Abasses, Tcherkesses, Mingrelians, Ourelians, Moguls, Gour- 
ians, Daghestantees, Koords, Lapps, Kalmucks, Khirgesses, 
Cossacks, — mingling with Russians, French, English, Span- 
iards, Romans, Greeks, Austrians, Prussians, Saxons, Danes, 
— here was an epitome of the Asiatic and Eui'opean races, 
all in their finest bravery, mingling together in the narrow 
compass of two grand halls. 

THE FRENCH AMBASSADOR. 

The foreign ambassadors and ministers who assembled at 
the palace of M. de Morny, at eight o'clock, descended 
from their carriages at the northern angle of this outer 
estrade. Just a minute or two before nine o'clock there 
was a great conunotion among the people, who were closely 
packed in this outer court, and the gendarmes riding gently 
through them made a lane for the first carriage of the 
French Emljassy. It came up right gorgeously, — running 
footmen, bewigged coachman, grand chasseur, — a regular 
glass coach, all gold hanging ; the horses and harness were 
unexcei^tionable, but it was rather startling to hear in the 
Kremlin a vigorous interpellation addressed from the digni- 
tary on the l)ox to the leading palefrenier, "Now then, 

Bill ! why the don't you leave the 'osses' 'eds alone ? " 

The reply was lost in the Russian cries of attention along 
the line as Count de Morny descended from his carriage 
and stepped on the estrade, where he was received by a 
High Chamberlain in waiting. His Excellency is dressed 
de riyiicur, and is really a well-appointed " fine-looking gen- 



IMPERIAL CORONATIOM AT MOSCOW. 299 

tleman," as our great Pendennis would say. Some of his 
suite bad arrived on horseback, and the other carriages of 
the embassy were rather put into the shade by the splen- 
dor of their chief's. 



THE BRITISH AMBASSADOR. 

The next carriage, which was not so showy, but was in 
other respects at least as good as the Count's coach, was 
that of the English Ambassador, who, with the Countess 
Granville, descend, were received by the Chamberlain, and 
in a like manner entered the Cathedral. Lord Gran- 
ville was di'essed in the Windsor uniform ; and his wife, 
who, to all our eyes, \\'as dressed with great richness and 
taste, was quite glorious with diamonds. The horses were 
worthy of the Ijest turn-out in " the park." May it be 
said we were all proud of our fair countrywoman, who 
might have well dared comparison, had there been any to 
institute, with the ladies of other embassies ? The fact is, 
that there were none, for ours was the only embassy with 
'' ladies " attached ; and, as for the legations, there are only 
two — that of the United States (to which Mrs. Colt and 
Miss Jarvis are attached) and of Saxony (which was rep- 
I'esented by the Baron and Baroness de Seebach) — which 
are 2;allant enoujih to come with their wives to Moscow. 



DIAMONDED ESTERHAZY. 

And now, amid a little battalion of bareheaded, running 
footmen, a very fine old coach drove uj), and from it de- 
scends — What is this ? A very fine old gentleman, in- 
deed, somewhat gone in years, but right royal and sjjlendid 
in air and attire. It was Prince Paul Esterhazy, ambassa- 
dor of Austria. He was dressed in pure silk or velvet, 
with a huzzar jacket of the same material, braided all over 
with pearls. Diamonds flash forth from all the folds of his 



300 THE COURT OF RUSSIA. 

clothing. His maroon-colored boots, which came up to the 
knee, were crusted with pearls and diamonds; and on his 
heels were spurs of brilliants which glittered finely in the 
sunshine. One would almost be proud to be kicked by 
such a boot ; but perhaps such an honor is only re- 
served for the great and noble. His Excellency has a 
very brilliant suite. 

From the Salle Ste. Andre the doors on one side lead 
to the fine promenade which is formed on the top of the 
first story of the fat^'ade of the Imperial Palace. As we 
stejjped out on this esplanade, a sight such as can neither 
be described nor forgotten met the eye. It was yet early 

— about half- past six o'clock; the sun shining from the 
left lighted up the gilt domes and vanes of the Kremlin, 
and of the churches on the right of the picture, with a 
rich orange flame, that seemed to die away or gather fresh 
vividness as the rolling vajiors of the morning rolled up 
more densely from the river, or thinned away before the 
fickle breeze. The view is bounded by the Kremlin on 
the left, and on the riglit by the buildings of the palace, 
at the end of the facade. Below the spectator there is 
the carriage-way, outside the palace, already thronged with 
spectators of the lower classes and masses of soldiery. This 
Avay is on the verge of the plateau on which the Kremlin 
stands, over the course of the Moskwa. Nearer to the 
river there is another broad path, close to the outer wall 
which surrounds the ancient fortress and overlooks the 
stream, and already the artillerymen are standing by the 
guns mounted on one of the old Gothic forts which break 
the lines of the crenellated wall. The people are here also 

— their flxces turned up to the white walls of the palace. 
At the other side of the river, which is about two hundred 
yards across, there is another walk lined with houses, — a 
veritable quay, on which men and women and children are 
standing in groups, looking towards the Kremlin. Behind 



IMPERIAL CORONATION AT MOSCOW. 301 

this line of houses opens out the city Uke some great sea ; 
the houses are hidden ahnost by the thick haze of Russian 
autumn, but above it fur many miles, in every j^ossible 
shape, cupola, turret, dome, spire, cross, minaret, rise to 
greet the sun, and I'eflect his rays upon their gilded sur- 
faces. It is impossible to imagine this scene. It is m 
vain, indeed, that the eye which gazes on it seeks, as it 
were, to seize the details of the world of clock-towers, pal- 
aces, churches, and public buildings, which seems to ex- 
tend as far as the horizon itself, springing up amid, and 
separated by, boulevards, meadows, gardens, and small 
plantations. 

All the architectures, as all the nations, of the globe are 
represented here. Here a strange -looking dome reminds 
you of Calcutta or some Indian city ; beside it is the mu- 
ral tower and Gothic battlement of the Crusade ; the sen- 
tries on the fire- towers seem gigantic in the haze, and just 
as you begin to fixncy they are warders on the donjon 
keep, you make out that the tower is not Norman, but 
very modern Byzantine, and that the man wears the long 
coat and fiat cap of active service. There you see Chinese 
willow-pattern edifices beside Gothic churches, next to a 
green dome fantastically carved like a prodigious pine-ap- 
ple. The fog, hah" smoke, half vapor, is tinged with many 
colors, as it rolls amid this forest of glittering spires and 
domes, and the vast mosaic of variegated cloud-roofs and 
house-to^Ds. 

As one gazed upon this scene he could not help being 
startled if he remembered that forty-four years ago Napoleon 
looked down on a similar scene from the walls of the old 
Kremlin. But hark ! There once again is the old familiar 
voice of the Russian cannon, — a flash of fire sjairts from 
an embrasure below, and the thick white smoke rushes 
into the air. Thank Heaven, the dull roar of the iron 
messenger of death is not heard again, but instead of that 
angry voice the bells of the Church of the Assumption 



302 THE COURT OF RUSSIA. 

ling out merrily, and at the signal the thousand l^ells 
of Moscow take up the chorus, and at the same tmie ten 
thousand voices of the peoi^le mingle together in a deep 
murmur. It is seven o'clock. The echoes of cannon shake 
the old Kremlin twenty-one times in rapid succession. This 
is the signal for the various persons engaged in the cere- 
monial to repair to the places indicated in the programme 
and ordre dii jour. 

Let us now enter the banqueting-hall. Surely, hei'e are 
the riches of the world ! Such a glare of gold plate, such 
a wild profusion of goblets, vases, cups, salvers, heaped on 
tables, massed on sideboards or carved stands along the 
walls of this glittering room ! This is the Granovitaya 
Palata, the Hall of the Ancient Tsars, (for so the Russians 
spell the word in French.) Can it be described? Assuredly 
not by the pen, nor by the pencil of any artist but one 
who can dip his brush in the hues of the rainbow. The 
low, many-arched roof of the hall is sustained by a huge 
square pillar in the centre, round which is placed a pla1> 
form with receding ledges, to the height of nine or ten 
feet, each ledge groaning with ancient vase and dishes in 
gold and silver. Some of these are of the quaintest form 
and curious workmanship, — models of old castles and pal- 
aces, strange animals, battle-pieces, birds, — craftily worked 
in past centuries by forgotten descendants of Tubal-Cain, 
and each a museum in itself On the right hand of the 
hall, on entering, there is a buflet which seems crushed 
beneath the masses of gold vessels upon it, each a study, 
but enriched above all by the grand cujj from Benvenuto's 
own hand, for which Russia ])aid the sum of ten thousand 
pounds sterling. On the left there is an estrade for the 
orchestra and for the singers, among whom are Lablache, 
Dumeric, Bosio, Calzolari, and Tagliafico. It is covered with 

cramoisied purple velvet, with gold fringes and borders 

On the left of the pillar are placed two tables, extending 



IMPERIAL COKONATION AT MOSCOW. 303 

the whole length of the room, for the guests. These are 
weighed clown likewise with gold and silver plates, goblets, 
plateaux, ej^ergnes, and salvers. The chairs, of white and 
gold, with crimson velvet seats, are placed at the left sides 
of the tables only, so that all the guests will have their 
faces turned towards their Majesties. Such are glories of 
the banquet-room of the Czar. 



THE IMPERIAL COUPLE. — ENTRY INTO THE CATHEDRAL. 

Now the Imperial dais comes in sight, and the Emperor 
himself presents himself to the people, not amid cheers, but 
loud, shrill cries which overpower the tolling of the bells, 
the crash of arms, and the loud flourish of drums and 
trumpets, which rise all around us. Before him marched 
two priests with a gold basin full of holy water, which an 
archbishop sprinkles profusely on the scarlet cloth. The 
Emperor, who possesses the personal advantages of the 
Eomanoff family, — a fine, erect, and stately figure, — march- 
ed with a measured stride, and bowed right and left as he 
passed down to the estrade. The Empress followed behind 
him, under the same dais, with thirteen ladies of honor 
around her, and her appearance was the signal for re- 
peated outbursts of cheering. Her Majesty was dressed 
with the utmost simplicity, and presented a most charming 
contrast to the glare by which she was surrounded. There 
was a gracefulness in her movements, — a quiet dignity 
and gentleness which touched every heart, and turned 
every eye even from the person of her Imperial husband. 
As the dais was borne down the steps amid the sheen of 
glittering sword-blades flourished at the presence of the 
Emperor, the picture offered by the Court of the Kremlin 
was such as one seldom sees, — the splendor of the pa- 
geant, the steady lines of the soldiery, the waving masses 
of the galleries as they rocked to and fro in their homage 



304 THE COURT OF RUSSIA. 

and ecstasy. A platoon of the Chevalier Gardes followed 
the dais, and after them came a member of each family 
of the High Russian nobility, three and three, behind 
whom again, in strange juxtapo.sition, marched a band of 
artisans and manufacturers ; after them followed the corps 
of 1st Guild of Merchants, by threes ; and the procession 
was closed by another platoon of the Chevalier Gardes. 
The flourishing of trumpets, the strains of the numerous 
bands, the cheers of the people, the measured hurrahs of 
the soldiery, the roll of drums, the clang of bells, deafened 
the ears, and almost overwhelmed the senses. The Metro- 
politans of Moscow and of Novgorod, who had i)reviously 
blessed and watered the Imperial Ensign, stood at the door 
of the Cathedral of the Assumption, and as their Majesties 
approached, the former presented them the Holy Hood to 
kiss, which they did most reverently, and the latter sprin- 
kled them with holy water. 

EFFECT ON THE RUSSIAN SPECTATORS. 

We are now inside the Cathedral with them, and we are 
about to witness a ceremony instinct with meaning, and 
full of sacred solemnity to the mind of the vmsoj^histicated 
Russian. The eye uninformed by the spirit cannot rightly 
interpret a great symbolical representation, and we must 
for the moment put aside our modern-day, constitutional, 
and essentially English ideas, if we would rightly appre- 
ciate the efllect of what we are about to witness. Some 
notion of its significance will be conveyed to the English 
mind by the thought that it is in the eyes of the Russian 
people the sacrament and visible consecration of the abso- 
lute power of one man over 60,000,000 of his fellow be- 
ings. Something of the terror inspired by such an idea is 
modified by the fact generally and heartily believed, that, 
in the present instance, the Prince who is to be invested 



IMPERIAL CORONATION AT MOSCOW. 305 

with such awful power is mild in disposition, upright in 
character, and sincerely desirous that his reign should con- 
duce to the happiness and welfare of his people. 

Let us for the moment try to identify ourselves in 
thought with one of his people. The Russian finds hinr- 
self in the centre of the magnificent church, every inch of 
whose walls glitters with gold, and whose pictorial sides 
ofler to his eyes allegorical representations of his faith. 
On the one hand he sees the saints under the altar of the 
Ajiocalypse, looking up to heaven with the agonized cry, 
" How long, Lord ? " On the other he views the aveng- 
ing flames glaring out of the pit of the wicked ; while 
from the top of the gorgeous ceiling a gigantic head of 
the Saviour looks down in peace, and gives consolation to 
his soul. All around him are the sacred relics and images 
of the saints, and before him, raised on a platform, and 
nndcr a canopy of velvet and gold, are the thrones of the 
Czars John III. and Michael Feodorowitch, prepared now 
for the Emperor and Empress, the inauguration of whose 
heaven-bestowed power he is about to witness. 

THE CEREMONY. 

The Empress Dowager and the Imperial family have al- 
ready entered the chiax'h and taken their places on the 
2:)latform around the thrones. Amid the ringing of bells 
and the shouts of the populace the young Emperor and 
his bride reach the entrance of the church. And now they 
detach themselves from the crowd of officials about them, 
and passing along the gorgeous screen that sejiarates the 
chancel from the church, they fall on their knees before 
the images of the saints, kiss with fervent reverence the 
sacred relics, and offer up silent prayers to heaven. Let 
the perfect grace and earnestness with which the young 
Empress performs these acts be noted. She is richly at- 
tired in a white robe, studded with the finest jewels ; but 

39 



306 THE COURT OF RUSSIA. 

her head is adorned only by her own luxuriant hair, with- 
out a single oiniament. Her right hand is ungloved, and 
with this she repeatedly crosses herself as she performs 
her religious offices, not mechanically, as if going through 
part of a prescribed ceremony, but fervently, religiously, 
and with the grace of perfect womanhood. And now the 
Emperor, followed by his bride, mounts the platfonn of 
the throne, and repeats from a book dehvered to him by 
the Archbishop of Moscow, the confession of his Christian 
faith. He then receives the benediction of the Archbishop ; 
and suddenly the choir, which has hitherto preserved 
silence, bursts out in psalms and praise to God, and the 
holy building vibrates with the ring of their harmonious 
voices. There is no note of organ nor sound of other in- 
strument. The singers, admirably organized, and chanting 
with astonishing power and precision, need no support ; the 
plaintive soprano voices of the boys rise clear and distmct 
above the deep tones of the rich basses, and the sustained 
harmony, solemn and affecting, throbs through the holy 
building. But already the Imperial mantle of silver and 
ermine, richly studded with gems, is in the hands of the 
Ai'chbishop, who proceeds to clasp it round the shoulders 
of his Majesty. Next follows the great crowni, which is 
placed by the same hands on the Imperial head, reverently 
bent to receive it ; and the sceptre and glolie are then 
dehvered to his Majesty, who, invested with these royal 
insignia, seats himself on the throne. The Empress now 
approaches with a meek yet dignified air, and fells on her 
knees before the Emperor. His Majesty lifting the crown 
from his own head, touches with it that of the Empress, 
and again seats it on his own brows. A lesser ci'own is 
then brought, which the Emperor places on the head of 
the Empress, where it is properly adjusted by the Mistress 
of the Robes, and his Majesty, having invested his bride 
with the Imperial mantle, draws her towards him and ten- 
derly embraces her. 



IMPERIAL CORONATION AT MOSCOW. 307 

Tliis is the signal for the whole Imperial femily, with 
the foreign princes, to approach and congratulate their 
Majesties ; and nothing can be more touching than the 
spectacle, from the evident earnestness with which em- 
braces (which are indeed the expression of the deep and 
cordial love which binds in one common bond of tender- 
ness all the memljers of the Imperial family) are received 
and returned. Oh ! for that touch of natiu'e which makes 
the whole world kin. How electric is its effect ! Here, in 
the midst of a ceremony necessarily stiff and formal, there 
is suddenly on the part of the principal performers a gen- 
uine outburst of natural feeling ; and mark its effect : there 
is scarcely a dry eye among the masses ci'owded in the 
church, while the feeble frame of the Empress-Mother totr 
ters with outstretched arms towards the Iniperial son, and 
passionately clasps and holds him in a long embrace ; and 
tears and smiles mingle together as the little Grand Dukes 
are seen to clamber up to the side of their father and 
uncle, who has to stoop low in order to i^each the little 
faces which ask to be kissed. 

But the most important and solemn part of the cere- 
mony has now to be performed ; and there is a general 
stillness in the church, as the Emperor descends from his 
throne and proceeds to the entrance of the chancel. He is 
met there by the Archbishop of Moscow, who holds in his 
hands the sacred vessel which contains the holy oil. Stretch- 
ing forth his right hand, the venerable father takes a golden 
branch, with which, having dipped it in the consecrated 
oil, he anoints the forehead, eyelids, nostrils, ears, hands, 
and breast of the Emperor, pronouncing the solemn words, 
'^Impressio doni Spiritus Sancii." 

The act is done, and Russian eyes look with awe upon 
the Anointed of God, the Delegate of his power, the High 
Priest of his Church, at once Emperor and Patriarch, con- 
secrated and installed in his high temporal and spiritual 
office. A salvo of cannons, the bray of trumpets, the roll 



308 THE COURT OF RUSSIA. 

of drums, announce the completion of the sacred act to 
the ears of those who are without the church and cannot 
witness it. 



THE CELEBRITIES AGAIN. 

As the briUiant procession passes out of the church, the 
Russians, with eager eyes, seek out and distinguish their 
illustrious fellow-countrymen. There in the rear of the 
Emperor walks the man now famous throughout Eurojje, 
the young and gallant soldier, tlie defender of Sebastopol, 
the intrepid Todtleben. His carriage is noble, and full of 
hero-like decision, but his step falters, and he limps on 
with the aid of a cane, which tells how sorely he still suf- 
fers from a wound received in the trenches before the 
town which his genius so long defended. His countenance 
is full of intelligence, yet mild and modest ; his chin, the 
most remarkable feature in his face, is finely developed, 
and bespeaks the iron will which belongs to the great sol- 
dier. All eyes are upon him. There, too, walks the friend 
of the Emperor Nicholas, the guardian of his son, the ne- 
gotiator of the Treaty of Paris, the upright and gallant 
Orloff; and there also is descried the world-famous Men- 
schikoff, who was selected for that disastrous mission to 
Constantinople, out of which grew the war, — the " Men- 
schikofF an fatclbt " as some foreigner irreverently whis- 
pers. But the foreigner, too, is engaged in looking among 
foreigners for distinguished individuals and distinguished 
things, among which latter must not be omitted the fiv 
mous pearl-embroidered coat of the Hungarian noble. Prince 
Esterhazy, the Ambassador of Austria. There, too, stands 
the Ambassador of France, and beside him that of Eng- 
land, wearing the distinction (as Prince Metternich called 
it) of a diplomatic coat unadorned with a single star or 
order. 



IMPERIAL CORONATION AT MOSCOW. 309 

THE CROWNED CZAR; IDOLATROUS HOMAGE. 

Presently forth stalks the Emperor. But now he wears 
an Imperial robe, and on his head there is a crown of 
dazzling splendor. The sun's rays seem to seek congenial 
light m those flashing diamonds. The eye cannot bear the 
brilliancy, and the mujik and the prostrate Russian may 
well be pardoned, if, with his imagination heated by all 
tliat he has seen and heard, — the chanting of the choirs, 
the carillons of bells, the strains of music, and the clamor 
of voices, — he thinks he sees a halo of heavenly glory 
around the Imperial head. Such homage to a man can 
only be pardoned on the ground that he is the elect and 
anointed of the Lord ; and, indeed, had one come from the 
skies with all the power and glory of a celestial messen- 
ger, he could scarce have excited moi'e fervor of adoration 
than did the Czar, as, with his figure drawn up to the 
highest, his eye flashing, and his cheek flushed, but his 
tread as firm as a lion's, he came forth from the church 
and stood, with globe and sceptre in his hands, in the 
blaze of the sun, before his people. In how many wild 
tongues, with what frantic gesticidations, did they call 
on Heaven to bless him ! Many a tear rolled down the 
rugged cheeks of the rude Cossacks ; and in many a strange 
dialect did the descendants of distant races implore their 
common father to pour down every blessing on him who 
represented their forgotten conquest, bondage, and thral- 
dom, and the influence of whose name alone bound them 
up with the Russian people. What might not be done 
with such subjects, and with such devotion and such faith? 
The flourishing of trumpets, the crash of bands, the noble 
swell of the national anthem, " God preserve the Czar," 
which nearly equals our own, the roll and tuck of drums, 
the bells, the voices of the people — all these formed a 
strange melange of sound, and stunned the ear; but when 
the Czar, passing out by the archway on our right, made 



310 THE COURT OF RUSSIA. 

his appearance to the larger crowd, there was a noise like 
a roar of thunder, or the waves of the sea, which swal- 
lowed up all else. The people on the terraces below, on 
the banks of the river, and m the streets outside the 
Kremlin, took up the cry and shouted like the rest; and 
some, I am told, went on their knees in the dust and 
prayed for the Czar. 

In a few minutes the procession began to wind throiigh 
the archway on our left, and to pass before the Cathedral 
of Michael. The priests in golden state surplice were 
waiting at the gates, and as the Emperor and Empress 
came up, to sprinkle them with holy water, and give them 
the cross to kiss. On entering, the Czar and Czarina 
kiss the holy relics, and kneel down to pray before the 
tombs of their ancestors ; after which the Domine salvum fac 
is chanted, and the Emperor and Empress continue their 
short march for a few yards to the Church of the Annun- 
ciation, where the same ritual is observed. 

On their way, the cheers, the music, the bells, the can- 
non never cease. It is just one o'clock as the proces- 
sion begins to ascend the perron rouge. The enthusiasm is 
boundless as his Majesty turns, and with outraised arm 
seems to return the blessings of his people. He bows to 
all around as he reaches the landhig, and, standing forth 
from mider the dais, looks down upon the scene below. 
In a few moments more he turns, and is lost to sight in 
the interior of the magnificent palace, through the walls 
of which, however, those sounds must follow him. 




^F.ii/I-L' BY '~HN E/ir^TAJ^f - 



J.VaimL BYZfU/BEE- OFBFM,m 



CC © U Kl T ® [R L ®- W W , 



COUNT OELOFF. 



Orloff is the name of a family remarkable in Russian 
history. Its founder was a cei'tain Ivan, Orel, or Eagle, 
who in the reign of Peter the Great was a private soldier 
among the Strelitzes, or Archers, who formed a body in 
the Russian, analogous to the Janissaries in the Turkish, 
empire. At the tune their destruction was accomplished, 
Peter the Great employed himself in beheading many of 
them with his own hand on a long beam of wood, which 
served as a block for several at a time. It is a current 
story in Russia that Ivan Avas one of those doomed to 
death, and that, on being called on to kneel down to re- 
ceive the blow, he kicked away a head which was still 
remaining on the beam, with the observation, "If this is 
my place it ought to be clear." Struck with his coolness, 
Peter spared the intended victim's life, and placed him in 
a regiment of the line, where by his bravery he won his 
way to the rank of officer, which brought with it that of 
noble. His son, Gregory Ivanovich, rose to be Governor 
of Novgorod, and had five sons, of whom two were espe- 
cially remarkable. Gregory OrlofF, born in 1734, entered 
the army, was engaged m the Seven Years War, and was 
sent to St. Petersburg with Count Schwerin at the time 
the Count was taken prisoner. The Grand Duchess Catha- 
rine, at that time the wife of the heir to the throne, saw 
Orloff, who was distinguished for the manly beauty of his 
person, and he became her favorite. The two Orlofls took 
part in the sudden revolution of the ninth of July, 1762, 
which put an end to the short reign of Peter III, and 



312 THE COURT OF RUSSIA. 

raised his wife — soon to become hi's widow — to the throne 
as the Empress Catharine. After that event, honors were 
showered upon Orloftj who was the flither of the Empress's 
child, the Comit Brobinski. He aspired to become her ac- 
knowledged husband and share the throne, but was pre- 
vented by her council. Alexis OrloffJ his brother, was, like 
himself, remarkable for his handsome and athletic person. 
He proved his unlimited devotion to Catharine the Great. 
In the war with the Turks, which broke out in 1768, 
Alexis OrlofF was appointed to the command over the two 
squadrons. The Eussian success at the battle of Chesme 
on the fifth of July, 1770, and the burning of the Turkish 
fleet with fire-ships in the bay of Chesme, four days later, 
are attributed to Orlofi", who enjoys the undivided credit 
of having furnished to Phillip Hackert, the German painter, 
the most exjjousive model recorded in history. Hackei't, 
Avho was engaged to paint a series of representations of 
the battles at Chesme could not delineate to OrlofF's satis- 
faction the blowing up of the Turkish ships, and alleged as 
a reason for his want of success, that he had never wit- 
nessed anything similar to such a spectacle. To furnish 
him with the requisite experience, a Russian frigate was 
by OrlofF's orders, in the month of May, 1772, blown up 
in the roads of Leghorn, in the presence, not only of the 
painter, but of assembled thousands, and the painting was 
then completed entirely to Orloff's satisfiiction. 

Such are some of the antecedents of the Orloff fxmily. 
Count Alexis Orloff, nephew of the Orloff last mentioned, 
and the original of the portrait in this volume, was born 
in 1787. He served with distinction in the great war 
against the French as adjutant of the Grand Duke Con- 
stantine. On the memorable day of the twenty-sixth of 
December, 1825, when he was in command of one of the 
regiments of the guard at St. Petersburg, he not only pre- 
served it for the Emperor, when the others burst into re- 
volt, but hastened to the Emperor's aid. He took up his 



COUNT ORLOFF. 313 

position opposite the Imperial Palace, and when, after all 
the attempts at pacification had failed, the contest was de- 
cided by arms, it was Orloff's regiment that most power- 
fully contributed to fix the victory on the side of the 
government. The Emperor Nicholas never forgot the as- 
sistance he rendered at a moment so critical to the house 
of Romanoff From that time onward, Count Orloff was 
the confidential and trusted friend and adviser of the Em- 
peror Nicholas, and he is well known to the statesmen and 
diplomatists of Europe. He belongs to an illustrious family, 
as families go in Russia. He is now about seventy-five 
years of age, but continues still brisk, healthy, and active ; 
Aide-de-Camp-Genoral, General of Cavalry, Commander of 
Cavalry, Commander of the Military Household of the 
King, and Member of the Council of the Empire. He 
took pai-t in almost all the wars which signalized the 
commencement of this century, was wounded at Auster- 
litz, and seven times at Borodino. He was a general 
when Nicholas mounted the throne. 

In 1828 he conunanded in Turkey the division of horse 
chasseurs. In 1829 he was named plenipotentiary, and 
signed the Treaty of Adrianople. He was sent to the con- 
ferences concerning Belgium and the Netherlands ; he in- 
variably accompanied the Czar Nicholas on his visits to 
foreign courts, — to London, Olmiitz, and Berlin. In 1845 
he succeeded Count de Benckendorff as chief of the third 
section of the Private Chancellery of the Emperor, and of 
the gendarmerie of the empire, the colonels of which, dis- 
tributed over all the governments, have less a mission of 
police, properly so called, than a general inspection of aU 
the administration of the country, and also of control over 
the governors as well as the governed. This post, full of 
trust, gave to Count Orloff free access at all hours of the 
day to the Emperor, and the right to speak to him of any 
and everything. 

He represented Russia at the Peace Congress of Paris in 

40 



314 THE COURT OF RUSSIA. 

1856. He was then described as a man of quiet manners 
and moderate views, and to have disapproved of Menschi- 
koff's mission and style of execution. The following re- 
mark is attributed to him : " Menschikoflf demanded much, 
to receive little ; I demand little, to receive much." No 
Eussian diplomatist could come to Paris more fully pos- 
sessed of his master's confidence, more familiar with the 
policy of the empire, or better qualified to meet the other 
plenipotentiaries on equal terms. 

It appears that of all the distinguished foreigners then 
present in Paris, Count Orlofi' was the one about whom 
the most curiosity was manifested by the Parisians. At 
the magnificent fete which was given by Count Walewski, 
at the hotel of the Minister for Foreign Aflflvirs, in honor 
of the representatives of the European Powers, Count Or- 
loff was the object of considerable attention. He was then 
said to be seventy years of age, but appeared fifteen years 
yoimger, and was a wonderful-looking man for his age. 
He was of large size, very erect, and his countenance de- 
noted robust health and great resolution. He has a very 
large head, covered with iron-gray hair, cropped close, and 
is, altogether, what may be called a portly-looking person, 
of a military aspect, and, whether from associations con- 
nected with his name or not, people remarked something 
like an expression of sternness on his countenance. He 
was in a plain evening dress, and wore two stars composed 
of brilliants on his left breast, with a broad blue ribbon en 
eeharpe. His deportment was extremely quiet, his whole 
manner one of repose ; and with the ease of a grand Eus- 
sian nobleman, and with that elegance of manner which 
seems so charming when allied with mihtary bearing, he 
conversed readily with the various groups which in succes- 
sion collected round him. 

Count OrlofF, in fact, was the " Uon " of the day ; the 
fairer portion of humankind, whose taste is as little lilvely 
to be disputed in Paris as an ukase in Eussia, spoke most 



COUNT ORLOFF. 315 

favoraljly of him. Though far beyond that medifeval term 
which awakes a feehiig more j)artakiiig of veneration than 
of sentiment, the Parisian Ladies admired him much, and, as 
has been observed, evidently looked upon him as some- 
thing between " Abelard and old Bliicher." 

Count Orloff, on encountering Marshal Baraguay d'Hil- 
liers in the salons of the Tuileries, is said to have observed 
smilingly : " Ah ! M. le Marshal, it is you, I think, who 
lately visited our country." " Yes, Count," replied the 
Marshal, "• It is I who had the pleasure of leaving a card 
at Bomarsund." 



THE COURT OF PRUSSIA. 



It is little more than a century and a half since Prussia 
became a kingdom. She cannot, like England, with whom 
she is now by ties of royal relationship so closely allied, 
trace her sovereignties back to the ages of Norman, Dan- 
ish, Saxon, and British races. But she has, in her brief 
time of being, had a succession of kings who have enlarged 
her sea territory, united her people, and governed her des- 
tiny, with, on the whole, an amazing amount of felicity 
and success. 

The " Great" Elector of Brandenburg, Frederic William L, 
was the founder of the Prussian power. He succeeded 
his fiither, the Elector George William, in 1640, and in 
1642 received the investiture of Prussia from the then King 
of Poland. He is called the " Great," and not without ex- 
emplifying some claims to the distinction. To be sure, al- 
though he made war, he did not conquer with the facility 
of an Alexander the Great, or the brilliancy of a Napo- 
leon I. ; but there are other roads to greatness than 
through the middle of an ensanguined field. He gave 
protection to the French Protestant refugees, greatly ex- 
tended the arts of agriculture throughout his dominions, 
and added twenty thousand manufacturers to the industrial 
resources of his kingdom. This is something. He also 
foimded libraries and miiversities, enlarged the boundaries 
of his dominions, and in 1688 bequeathed a well-supplied 
treasury to his son. Wise as these acts show him to have 
been in the art of governing his people, still wiser does he 
seem to have been in the art of governing himself An 



318 IMPERIAL COURTS. 

instance of this is worth relating. Wlien at the Hague, 
and yet a young man, he felt himself in the greatest dan- 
ger of forming one, amongst many other individuals, who 
went to make up the aggregate of an exceedingly corrupt 
state of society, for which that place was then notorious. 
The dread of this induced him to seek his moral safety in 
physical flight. Accordingly, he fled to the camp of the 
Prince of Orange, then at Breda. This signal instance of 
virtue struck the Prince of Orange with surjorise, whilst 
at the same time it called forth his marked approljatiou. 
" Cousin," said he, on receiving him, " your flight is a 
greater proof of heroism than would be the taking of 
Breda. He who knows so early how to command himself, 
will always succeed in great deeds." The philosophical re- 
mark was not misaj^plied, nor was it ever forgotten by the 
" Great " Elector of Brandenburg. 

The son of this sovereign was Frederic HI., Elector of 
Brandenburg, who in 1701 became the recognized King 
of Prussia, as Frederic I. Of tliis prince we have not 
much to say. He was am!)itious, and put the crown on 
his own head — an act subsequently imitated by Napo- 
leon I. of France — and also on that of his royal consort, 
on the occasion of their being acknowledged King and 
Queen of Prussia. He instituted military orders, extended 
his dominions, founded vmiversities, royal societies and acad- 
emies, and married Sophia Charlotte of Hanover, sister of 
George I. of England. He died in 1713, and was suc- 
ceeded by his son, Frederic William I., who married a 
daughter of George I. of England, and who inherited all 
the niilitaiy tastes of his ancestors, to which he added 
something peculiarly his own. This was an extraordinary 
fancy for tall soldiers. His ideal of a warrior seemed to 
have concentrated itself in gigantic height. A small mili- 
tary man was liis utter abhorrence. The consequence of 
this was, that he had agents employed in all parts of Eu- 
rope, collecting and enlisting for the Prussian service every 



THE COURT OF PRUSSIA. 319 

son of Anak thoy could find within the limits of a conti- 
nent. Tiie pm'.suits of science and literature were, in his 
estimation, the occupations of fools, idiots, imbeciles, or 
madmen. Money, however, he worshipped as an onniipo- 
tent power ; and when we add to that the adoration with 
which Titanic pi^oportions became invested in his eyes 
when clothed in regimentals, we have, perhaps, one in- 
stance of the most perfect materiel cast of mind that ever 
was encased within tiie cranium of a Euroj^ean sovereign. 
He died in 1740, Ijequeathing, as might be expected, a 
well-supplied treasury, and a well-appointed army of nearly 
seventy thousand men to his son, historically known as 
Frederic the Great. 

Frederic II.. King of Prussia, as might be supposed, was 
but indilferently educated, anti was the subject of much 
bad treatment from his father, because his natural tastes, 
in perfect contradistinction to those of that sovereign, led 
him to love music and literature. He was, through pa- 
rental afcction, confined in the castle of Custrin, because he 
attempted to escape, with his youthful companion Katte, 
from the inhumanities of a government as despotic as it 
was destructive to all the softening influences of civiliza- 
tion, social refinement, and polite enjoyment. Poor Katte 
was barbarously put to death before his eyes ; and it ap- 
pears to be historically authenticated that his father had 
determined to remove the prince also from this sublimary 
sphere, had the intercession of Charles VI., Emperor of 
Austria, not prevented it. In 1740 he came to the crown, 
and commenced to carry out the traditions of his family, 
by making war upon his neighbors. To follow the story 
of his wars is not our intention. Let it suffice, that in 
danger he was undaunted, in difficulty full of resources, in 
combat brave, in politics sagacious, and in government wise. 
Mr. Carlyle, in his " Life of Frederic," has thus sketched 
the portrait of this extraordinary man : — 

" About fourscore years ago, tliere used to be seen. 



320 IMPERIAL COURTS. 

sauntering on the terraces of Sans Souci, for a short time 
in the afternoon, or you might have met him elsewhere at 
an earher hour, riding or driving in a rapid business man- 
ner, on the open roads, or through the scraggy woods and 
avenues of that intricate, amphibious Potsdam region, a 
highly-interesting little old man, of alert, though slightly- 
stooping figure, whose name among strangers was King 
Frederic II., or Frederic the Great of Prussia, and at 
home, among the common people, who much loved and 
esteemed him, was Vater Fritz, — Father Fred, — a name 
of familiarity, which had not bred contempt in that in- 
stance. He is a king, every inch of him, though without 
the trajjpings of a king ; presents himself in a Spartan 
simi^licity of vesture, — no crown, but an old military 
cocked hat, — generally old, or trampled and kneaded into 
an absolute softness, if new ; no sceptre, but one like 
Agamemnon's, — a walking-stick cut from the woods, which 
serves also as a riding-stick, (with which he hits the horse 
between the ears, say authors,) and for royal robes, a mere 
soldier's blue coat, with red fecings, — coat likely to be old, 
and sure to have a good deal of Sjjanish snuff on the 
breast of it; rest of the apparel dim, unobtrusive in color 
or cut, ending in high over-knee military boots, which may 
be brushed, and, I hope, kept safe with an underhand sus- 
picion of oil, but are not j^^rmitted to be blackened or 
varnished : Day and Martin with their soot-pots forbidden 
to approach. This man is not of god -like jjhysiognomy 
any more than of imposing stature or costume : close-shut 
mouth, with thin lips, prominent jaws, and nose receding ; 
brow by no means of OlymjMan height ; head, however, is 
of long form, and has superlative gray eyes in it : not 
what is called a beautiful man, nor yet, by aU appearance, 
what is called a happy man. On the contrary, the fiice 
bears evidence of many omens, as they are termed, of 
much hard labor in this world, and seems to anticipate 
nothing but still more coming. Quiet stoicism, capable 



THE COURT OF PRUSSIA. 321 

enough of what joy there was, but not exjiecting any 
worth meutionmg ; great unconscious, and some conscious 
pride, well tempered with a cheery mockery of humor, are 
written on that old face, which carries its chin well for- 
ward, in spite of the slight stoop about the neck ; snufty 
nose, rather flmig into the air luider its old cocked hat, 
like an old snuffy lion on the watch, and such a pair of 
eyes as no man or lion or lynx of that country have 
elsewhere, according to the testimony of all we have. 
Most excellent, potent, brilliant eyes, swift- darting as the 
stars, steadfast as the sun, gray, we said, of the azure gray 
color, large enough, not of glaring size ; the habitual ex- 
pression of the vigilance and penetrating sense, rapidity 
resting on depth, which is an excellent combination, and 
gives us the notion of a lambent outer radiance, springing 
from some greater inner sea of light and fire in the man. 
The voice, if he spoke to you, is of similar physiognomy — 
clear, melodious, sonorous, — all tones are in it, from that 
of ingenious inquiry, graceful sociality, light-flowing banter, 
(rather pricky, for most part,) up to definite word of com- 
mand, uj) to desolating word of rebuke and reprobation, — 
a voice the clearest and most agreeable in conversation I 
ever heard, says witty Dr. Moore." This " heroic " charac- 
ter reigned forty -seven years, encouraged literature, and 
wrote much himself, besides framuig the " Frederician Code 
of Laws," for the internal administration of his kingdom. 
He added Silesia to his dominions, and in 1772 shared in 
the first partition of Poland. 

Frederic the " Great " was succeeded by his nephew, 
Frederic William II., in 1786. He, however, possessed 
none of the iron qualities of his ancestors, but was given 
to such eflFeminate delights that his kingdom began rapidly 
to lose place amongst the advancing nations of Europe — 
so true is it, that whether men be taken separately as in- 
dividuals, or collectively as in a nation, they will lose caste 
if they devote themselves to Sybaritic pleasures in prefer- 

41 



322 IMPERIAL COURTS. 

ence to those more manly pursuits for which they are by 
nature designed, and forget to keep shadowing forth, as far 
as possible, those loftier attributes of virtue and excellence 
by which their daily conduct should be regulated and 
characterized. The pleasures of Capua are by no means 
localized, however fatal these were to the soldiers of Han- 
nibal. This prince died in 1797, but not until he had, 
with the aid of Russia, shared in the second division of 
Poland, efiected in 1793. 

Frederic William III. now ascended the throne. He 
was the son of the preceding sovereign, but was cast in a 
somewhat difi'erent mould. At this period the star of Na- 
poleon I. of France was in the ascendant, and although for 
some time the Prussian monarch contrived to maintain a 
neutrality between contending nations, in 1805 he allied 
himself with the Czar of Russia against the French Em- 
peror. In the following year he was defeated at Jena, and 
the gates of Berlin were ojiened to the enemy, in whose 
hands the Prussian capital remained till 1809. In 1807, the 
battle of Friedland had brought about the Treaty of Tilsit, 
by which Frederic lost half of his dominions. After 1809, 
he was i-estored to his capital ; but reverse after reverse, 
humiliation after humiliation, followed him, until the height 
of his misfortunes seemed to culminate in 1813. The de- 
feat of the French, however, at Leipsic, in 1814, enabled 
him, with the Russian Emperor Alexander, to enter Paris, 
and to visit England, where he was hospitably received 
and sumptuously entertained. After the battle of Waterloo, 
in which Prussia played an important part, he gradually 
recovered his possessions, and by the subsequent wisdom 
and moderation with which he conducted the government 
of his country, Prussia rose into prosperity. He died in 
1840, an ardent supporter of the Protestant religion, and a 
patron of education, but a man of great indecision of pur- 
pose, and a sovereign who never redeemed his promise of 
bestowing a rejjresentative government on his people. 



THE COURT OF PRUSSIA. 323 

In 1840, Frederic William IV., son of the preceding 
monarch, ascended the throne. That he inherited some of 
the military tendencies or dispositions of his ancestoi's is 
unquestionable ; but it is also unquestionable that he in- 
herited some of their failings. He had all the absolutism 
of Frederic William I., and all the irresolution of Fred- 
eric William II. He was a great lover of the arts, how- 
ever, and cultivated them with success. " His education," 
says a contemporary, "was carefully attended to, and he 
had the advantage of studying under the most celebrated 
instructors in the difterent branches of literature, science, 
and art. Although too young at the time to be intrusted 
with any command, he nevertheless took part in the cele- 
brated campaigns of 1813 and 1814, in which Prussia in a 
great measure avenged the indignities heajjed upon her by 
Napoleon I. He was afterwards admitted into the Comicil 
of State, and shared in the direction of public affairs. On 
the decease of his father he ascended the throne, and com- 
menced his reign by ameliorating the x'epressive system of 
government of his predecessor. In 1848, when the revolu- 
tionary mania extended to the Berlinese, he attempted to 
lead and direct the movement, placing himself at the head 
of the National party, and j^rojjosing to fnse all the Ger-- 
man States into a great federal union under a single 
monarch. His scheme, however, was not successful, and he 
finally entered on a career of reaction, which exposed him 
to much ill-will, but fortunately to no worse consequences. 
His vacillating conduct during the Crimean war is weU 
known, and lowered his character in the eyes both of 
princes and people. In the year 1857 he first exhibited 
symptoms of foilure of mind, and in October, 1858, his 
brother, Prince Frederic William Louis, was created Ke- 
gent, to the general satisfaction of the people." 

Frederic William IV. married a daughter of the stern 
and commanding Nicholas of the North, who, when ear- 
nestly soliciting his assistance against the Western Powers 



324 IMPERIAL COURTS. 

during the Crimean war, received a reply not uncharacter- 
istic of Prussian sovereignty. "There is hardly anything I 
will not do for the Emperor Nicholas, whom I love," said 
he ; " but if I remember that he is my father-in-law, neither 
do I forget that Prussia is not the sister-m-law of Russia." 
Tliis sovereign closed his earthly career on the third of 
January, 1861, at the palace of Sans Souci, leaving his 
throne to his brother, who, since 1858, had been fulfilling 
the functions of Regent of the kingdom. 




EiLgiavei CT. Steel 



jDvJI' 



WIIc^jLAM ILQWE-S, 



FREDERIC WILLIAM LOUIS. 



Frederic William Louis, the present King of Prussia, 
whose portrait we give, is the second son of Frederic 
William III. and of that Prussian Queen whose name is en- 
circled with a halo of romance from the severities with 
which she was treated by Napoleon I. He was born in 
1797, and before he was called upon to take the conduct 
of afiairs of his brother's kingdom, filled the posts of Mil- 
itary Governor of Rhenish Prussia and Kmg's Lieutenant 
in Pomerania. Until he became Regent he held aloof from 
all uninvited interference with the affairs of the general 
government; but whenever his opinions were invited by 
the King, he gave them at once and without reserve, 
showing at the same time that they were very different 
from such as were entertained by his royal brother. He 
evinced no ambition to be a patron of learning, a pietist, 
or a philosopher. If he exhibited any latent predominating 
inclination, it was perhaps to be a Prince of Prussia of the 
school of Frederic the Great. He was crowned at Konigs- 
berg on the eighteenth of October, 1861. " The ceremo- 
nials connected with the coronation," says a chronicler of 
this important Prussian event, " commenced on Monday, 
with the entrance of the King and Queen into Kcinigsberg. 
Their Majesties arrived at the gates at twelve o'clock, 
where they were received by the royal princes, the gen- 
erals, the presidents, and the civic authorities. The King 
was on horseback, surrounded by the princes of the royal 
house ; the Queen rode in a state carriage drawn by eight 
horses. Their Majesties were cheered by the crowds on 



326 THE COURT OF PRUSSIA. 

tlieir way through the streets. Their passage through the 
Brandenburg gate was announced by a discharge of cannon 
and the ringing of behs. The procession proceeded through 
the hnes formed by the corporations, guilds, and companies, 
the people continually cheering, and the crowds being 
everywhere very great. All the houses were richly deco- 
rated, and were filled with spectators to the roofs. At the 
castle their Majesties were received by the princesses of 
the royal house and the body of the officers and clergy. 
The number of strangers who arrived in the city was 
enormous. After his solemn entry, the King received the 
civil and mihtary authorities at the royal castle, expressing 
to them his thanks, and telling them that he ' was full of 
confidence in the future development of all interests under 
the free action of all classes of the people.' " 



CORONATION AT KONIGSBERG. 

KoNiGSBERG is an ancient and renowned city. Its histor- 
ical associations, stretching back upward of six centuries, 
are richly colored with striking incidents ; and almost 
every street and public building quaintly tells a tale 
thoroughly characteristic of some bj'gone age. An intel- 
ligent tourist can scarcely thread its narrow streets, or 
look round its squares, or gaze upon its palace, or float 
down the river which bisects the city, without descrying 
many an object interesting either for its own sake or for 
the sake of some romantic event of which it remains a 
picturesque memorial. It is a place in which the archae- 
ologist may revel, and in which all the instincts of the 
historian may find ample and varied matter of gratification. 

This city has been selected as the scene of the most im- 
posing of regal solemnities, the coronation of King William 
of Prussia, on the spot where six himdred years ago the 
Teuton Knights founded their strons-hold as an advanced 
post from which to wage war against the surrounding 



FREDERIC WILLIAM LOUIS. 327 

heathen — the 23orap and magnificence with which the net 
was performed — the festivities by which the ceremonial 
was accompanied — and the immense concourse of strangers 
gathered from all parts of the world to witness the gor- 
geous spectacle — have raised this little city, for the time 
being, into European imjjortance, and have even eclipsed 
the juljilee celebrated there in 1855. 

On Monday morning at an early hour all the population 
of Konigsberg was on foot to receive the King and Queen, 
who passed the night in the mansion of Count Dohnna, a 
few miles from the town. At seven o'clock all the bells 
of the churches rang merry peals. At eight the trades' 
corporations, in numjjer about three thousand, assembled in 
one of the principal squares, and proceeded, headed by a 
bnnd of music, to the Brandenburg gate to await the ar- 
rival of the royal cortege. Within the gate, which forms 
part of the fortified enceinte of the town, was erecteil a 
triumjohal arch, surmoimted with gigantic royal-crowns, and 
ornamented with the arms of Prussia and Saxe-Weimar, 
(the Queen is a Princess of that Grand Duchy,) and with 
the inscription : " Salutation and happiness to the King ! " 
At ten o'clock two stands erected near the gates were 
occupied, one by ladies and the other by members of the 
municipality, and close to them were waiting fifty yoimg 
ladies clad in white, with scarfs of the national colors and 
crowns of flowers on their heads. At about eleven the 
official deputations went to the Summer Palace, a short 
distance from the town, from which their Majesties and 
the members of the royal family were to come. The 
representatives of the town having been presented to the 
King and Queen, M. Sperling, the first burgomaster, in its 
name, offered congratulations, and the King replied. His 
Majesty afterward got on horseback, and the cortege set 
out. 

After a detachment of the third regiment of cuirassiers, 
with the band, came two aides-de-camp ; and then appeared 



328 THE COURT OF PRUSSIA. 

the King on horseback, in the uniform of a General of the 
Cfuard, with a hehnet bearing a white phnne. Close behind 
him came the Crown-Prince, followed by the other Princes. 
When the King reached the stands, one of the young 
ladies, Mdlle. Bigork, daughter of the second burgomaster, 
addressed to his Majesty a compliment in verse, very 
neatly turned, and then presented on a cushion a copy 
of it, which was printed on satin and elegantly bound in 
black velvet with silver ornaments. The King, after thank- 
ing the young lady, took the copy, and handed it to his 
aide-de-camp, and the cortege resumed its march. Next came 
the Queen, in a carriage drawn by eight horses, two equer- 
ries preceding it, and General de Willisen, Grand Equerry, 
riding by the side. The carriage was surmounted by silver 
eagles, and the horses had crimson harness picked with 
silver. The Queen, who was in mourning costume, was 
accompanied by the Grand Mistress of the Palace. When 
her Majesty reached the stands, another young lady, Mdlle. 
Rosenkranz, daughter of a celebrated professor of the Uni- 
versity, delivered an address in verse, and then presented 
a copy of it, which was bound in the Saxe-Weimar colors 
of green and gold. The Queen, who appeared delighted 
with the enthusiastic reception given to her, aftectionately 
pressed the hands of Mdlles. Rosenkranz and Bigork, and 
said that she would see them again before her departure. 
The rest of the cortege, consisted of several court-carriages, 
of a number of generals on horseback, and of the carriages 
of the members of the municipality. During the entrance a 
salute of one hundred and one guns was fired from the 
cannon of the ramparts. 

The castle church, where the coronation ceremonies were 
gone through, was resplendent with gilded decorations and 
velvet drapery ; and at ten o'clock the royal procession, 
being duly marshalled, proceeded from the castle to the 
church, heralded by the Coronation March, composed by 
Meyerbeer expressly in honor of the event. Included in 



FREDERIC WILLIAM LOUIS. 329 

the procession were the chief officers of the court and 
royal hous'ehold, the representatives of the various districts 
of the kingdom, the bearers of the royal insignia, and all 
the recognized " trappings of monarchy." Next came his 
Prussian Majesty, King Wifliam I., gorgeously apparelled 
in the robes of the Order of the Black Eagle, followed by 
the Crown-Prince and the other members of the royal 
fomily, together with the Queen, the Crown-Princess, and 
their attendant suites. The graver features of the cere- 
monial comprised a sermon and prayer by Doctor Smeth- 
lage, courtly, yet earnest in tone. Then came that portion 
of the coronation drama in which his Prussian Majesty was 
the chief actor. The crown, sceptre, orb, and sword being 
duly arranged on the altar, the King, having offered up a 
silent prayer, placed the crown on his head. More prayers 
succeeded, after which his Majesty put the crown on the 
head of his royal spouse. A series of congratulations and 
salutes among the members of the royal family then took 
place. 

After the coronation ceremony the processions proceeded 
to the throne-room, where Cardinal Geissel (in the name 
of the CathoHc clergy) and Prince Solms Lych (in the 
name of the nobility) addressed the King. 

His Majesty then proceeded down the grand staircase to 
the court-yard, and, surrounded by the whole court, his 
ministers, and the invited witnesses of the coronation, re- 
ceived the addresses of the Presidents of the Prussian 
Chambers, and of Count Dohnna-Lauck, representative of 
the Estates. 

The King, when the ceremonies had been concluded, 
lowered his sceptre three times, and reentered the castle 
amid the hearty and enthusiastic cheers of the people. 

In the portrait any one may read the general character 
of Frederic William Louis, the present King of Prussia. 
Hard, firm, unbending, sternly upright, but also sternly ob- 
stinate, he carries the air of a ruler formed by habits of 

42 



330 THE COURT OF PRUSSIA. 

military discipline rather than of courtly policy. "King, 
by the grace of God " he I'ightly feels himself, but with a 
tendency to forget that other rights equally exist by the 
grace of God, whose overruling providence arranges all 
worldly relationships. Let us hope that the King may 
have wisdom given to him, so as not to assert theoretical 
claims of official authority at the expense of and in oppo- 
sition to the just rights and safe privileges of constitutional 
government. 

His Majesty was married in June, 1829, to the Princess 
Marie Louise Auguste Catherine, (daughter of Charles Fred- 
eric, late Grand Duke of Saxe- Weimar Eisenach, and sis- 
ter of the reigning Grand Duke), born on the thirtieth of 
September, 1811. He has had issue Prince Frederic Wil- 
liam Nicholas Charles, Prince of Prussia, married in Jan- 
uary, 1858, to the Princess Eoyal of England, and the Prin- 
cess Louise Marie Elizabeth, married to the reigning Grand 
Duke of Baden. 




TCnj^raved 



Geo E. Pcrin-i; 



Li"J \l W. Kf, M ESTW T M E (^OJ E E R! ® [F [P IK OJ S§ Q A . 



THE QUEEN OF PRUSSIA. 



This royal personage, who now shares the throne of 
Prussia with her husband, King Frederic William, was, 
before her marriage, the Princess Marie Louise Auguste 
Catherine. She is the daughter of Charles Frederic, late 
Grand Duke of Saxe-Weimar Eisenach, and sister of the 
reigning Grand Duke. She was born September 30, 1811, 
and married June 11, 1829. She is the mother of Prince 
Frederic William of Prussia, who is married to the eldest 
daughter of Queen Victoria of England. She is the mother 
also of the Princess Louise Marie Elizabeth, who is married 
to the reigning Grand Duke of Baden. She Avas crowned 
at Konigsberg in October, 1861, with great ceremonies, of 
which an account is given ia a previous sketch, and which 
precludes the necessity of repeating it here. The Queen 
of Prussia bears an illustrious character as a lady of noble 
disposition, a lover of freedom, the friend of letters, and 
patroness of every liberal art. The portrait -plate engrav- 
ing which accompanies this brief sketch wUl aid the reader 
in judging of the lineaments of the face of this royal and 
queenly personage. 




IINC-" BrjDHN SAHKVM-Fffny'^ 



Mamed . Jm''2Xf3JS 



PRINCE FREDERIC WILLIAM AND PRINCESS 
VICTORIA. 



The fine portraits of the Prince and Princess represent 
them in the position and costume as they appeared on the 
occasion of then' royal wedding. Much of their personal 
history is given in tlie narrative of the ceremonies of that 
august occasion. 

The marriage of Prince Frederic William of Prussia 
with the Princess Royal of England, named Victoria Ade- 
laide Maria Louisa, after her august mother and the Queen 
Dowager, was celebrated with imperial splendor on Monday, 
January 25, 1858, in St. James's Palace. It was no ordi- 
naiy occasion. The programme, as a whole, formed an 
interesting chapter in the history of the royal family of 
England. It caused the great heart of England to quicken 
its pulsations with unwonted mterest and pleasure. 

Prince Frederic William Nicholas Charles was born on 
the eighteenth of October, 1831. His father, the Prince 
of Prussia, is brother and heir to the reigning King, and 
at present actually rules in Prussia as Regent, during the 
declining health of the monarch. Prince Frederic is the 
only son of the Prince of Prussia, and, of course, heir pre- 
sumptive to the crown. The mother of Prince Frederic, 
a daughter of the Grand Duke of Weimar, bears an illus- 
trious character as a lady of noble disposition, a lover of 
freedom, the friend of letters, and pati'oness of every liberal 
art. The Prince, her son, is said to be a fine-looking young 
man; in height about five feet nine inches, with graceful 
and dignified manners, blue eyes, a German face, and ami- 



334 THE COURT OF PRUSSIA. 

al)le disposition. The Princess Eoy.al, the eldest child and 
daughter of Victoria, was born in the year of the Queen's 
marriage, November 21, 1840, and was welcomed with en- 
thusiasm by the English puljlic, who regarded her at the 
time as a new heir to the throne. Her christening Avas 
celebrated with signal grandeur in the Throne -Room of 
Buckingham Palace, and many eminent persons were pres- 
ent, who have since passed from mortal scenes. Foremost 
of these were the Queen Dowager, the Duke of Welling- 
ton, Viscount Melbourne, and the Dukes of Sussex and 
Cambridge. The Princess is fair and delicately foiTued, and 
has grown uj) as channing in person as she is accomplished 
in mind and manners. Her eyes are IdIuc and of an arched 
expression; and her movements are full of grace, dignity, 
and ease. At the date of her marriage she had seen 
seventeen years and sixty-five days. A few years hence 
may see her Queen of Prussia, and her next brother King 
of England, on the decease of her excellent Queen-mother, 
Victoria. 



BETROTHAL OF THE ROYAL BRIDE. 

It was in the autmnn of 1855, and in the midst of the 
public rejoicing at the news of the fall of Sel^astopol, that 
Prince Frederic William of Prussia, nephew of the reign- 
ing King, and heir presumptive to the crown, without 
much previous public announcement, came to pay a visit 
to her Majesty, who, with the royal family, was at Bal- 
moral, where the Court had arrived from the south the 
week before. His Royal Highness entered Aberdeen on 
Friday, September fourteenth, and proceeded by the Dun- 
dee Railway towards the royal residence, being met at 
Banchory by his Royal Highness Prince Albert, who, ac- 
companied by General Sir George Grey, had posted thirty 
miles to greet his arrival. The Prussian Prince, who was 
attended by Colonel Heintze, was received by the Queen, 



attended by the ladies and gentlemen of the household, on 
his arrival at Balmoral. 

On the twenty-eighth of September, the ordinary calm 
routine of rural enjoyment which marked the sojourn of 
the Court in her Majesty's favorite Highland home, was 
diversified by a dance to the tenantry on the Balmoral 
property, at which were present some non-commissioned 
officers and soldiers of the seventy-ninth and ninety-third 
regiments who had served in the Crimea, and who Iiap- 
pened to be quartered at Ballater. At this joyous and 
interesting gathering the Prince of Prussia was present. 
On the Monday following, his Royal Highness took his de- 
parture for London, accompanied as far as Braemar by the 
Queen and Prince Albert. He arrived in London on the 
following day, and on the Tuesday following his Royal 
Highness took his departure from London for Berlin. 

A few weeks after Prince Frederic William's return 
home, the " Cross," a Berlin newspaper, announced, appar- 
ently on authority, the betrothal. The bridegroom elect 
made frequent visits, from time to time, to England, and 
took part with the Court in many interestmg ceremonials. 

On June 6, 1856, her Majesty and the Prince Consort 
went to a grand fancy dress ball at Hanover Square 
Rooms, given in aid of the funds of the Royal Academy 
of Music. The Princess Royal and Prince Frederic of 
Prussia were also of the august party — the former simply 
attired in a white robe and a wreath of flowers. 

Prince Frederic of Prussia jjaid a visit to England in 
May, 1857, and was present, with the Princess Royal and 
others of the Royal family, at the christening of her Majes- 
ty's youngest child, the Princess Beatrice. Meantime the 
official announcement of the betrothal of Prince Frederic 
William with the Princess Royal of England was published 
in the " Staats Anzeitjer." 

On the eighteenth of May her Majesty communicated 
the gratifying intelligence to the House of Commons, in 



336 THE COURT OF PRUSSIA. 

a gracious message, which was brought up by Lord Pal- 
merstou, asking for tlie concurrence and assistance of this 
House in enabUng lier to make such provision for her 
eldest daughter, with a view to tlie said marriage, as may 
be suitable to the dignity of the Crown and the honor of 
the country. 

A jjrovision was made for her Eoyal Highness of forty 
thousand pounds as an outfit, and an annuity of eight 
thousand pounds a year for life from the date of her 
intended marriage. 



THE MARRIAGE OP THE PRINCESS ROYAL. 

The marriage of the Princess Royal with Prince Frederic 
William of Prussia was celebrated on Monday, January 25, 
1858, in the Chapel of St. James's Palace, with all the 
splendor of modern state ceremonial. The day was even 
more generaUy kept as a holiday by all classes in the me- 
tropolis than had been expected, and the crowds that col- 
lected in the Park and the vicinity of the Palace were 
immense, though the place did not allow of much out-door 
joageantry. A transient glimpse of the royal j^arty and 
foreign guests was aU that could be obtained ; yet the 
event excited interest enough to keep those thousands 
together for many hours. It was a good and hearty popu- 
lar feeling, and the unmistakable manner in which it was 
displayed must have been very gratifying. 

Among those who attended the ceremony were repre- 
sentatives of an eventful past, and those in whom repose 
the hopes of the future. By the side of the young Prin- 
cess was Leopold of Belgium, with his spare and wiry form 
and historical figure, whom time has lightiy touched. Did 
not his thoughts go back forty years, to another scene, 
with what changes and chances since? A few steps in ad- 
vance of our Queen walked Lord Palmerston, bearing the 
sword of state, and looking quite able to do much more 



FREDERIC WILLIAM AND PRINCESS VICTORIA. 337 

with the emblematic weapon than cany it, if need were ; 
he al.'^o can recur to poHtical and otlicial memories of 
nearly two generations. These are the veterans wlio con- 
nect the present with the past ; but, on the whole, the 
chief characteristic of the scene was the youth of the prin- 
cipal persons in it. The august parents of the bride were 
then in the noon of life ; the j^i'ii^cely bridegroom had but 
just arrived at manhood, and his beautiful and royal l)ride 
was in the very l^loom of youth. There was something 
even touching in the glance she threw round her as she 
passed, so confiding in its simple hopefulness ; many a 
heart whispered, God bless her! and long defer the day 
when that fair young brow will have to bear the weight 
of a crown. 

Although the morning was raw and cold, the crowd be- 
gan to gather at a very early hour ; every moment added 
to its numbers, and in an incredibly short time the space 
between Buckingham Palace and St. James's, with the 
exception of the avenue reserved for the j^assage of the 
royal carriages, was completely fdled. Towards noon, when 
the royal party were expected to leave Buckingham Pal- 
ace, the concourse of spectators was immense. The route 
to be followed bj' the royal party was kept by a detach- 
ment of Life Guards, aided by a numerous body of police ; 
and although their temper was occasionally sorely tried, 
they contrived to maintain effective order. Shortly before 
noon the bridal procession left Buckingham Palace. It 
consisted of upwards of twenty carriages. 

First came the Princess of Prussia, the Duke of Saxe- 
Col>urg, the Princes Frederic Charles, Frederic Albert, and 
Adalbert of Prussia, the Prince of Hohenzollern-Sigmarin- 
gen, the Duke of Brabant, the Count of Flanders, and 
their respective suites in coaches drawn each by two 
horses. After a short interval followed the bridegroom in 
a state carriage drawn by black horses. His Royal High- 
ness was escorted by a detachment of Life Guards, and 
43 



338 THE couuT of peussia. 

attended by the gentlemen of his suite. His rect'iitioa 
by the multitude was most enthusiastic. The remaining 
coaches were occupied by her Majesty, the Prince Consort, 
the Bride, the Prince of Wales, and the other members of 
the Royal Family. Her Majesty and the Princess Royal 
rode together m a carriage drawn by cream-colored horses, 
and the cheers which greeted their appearance were vehe- 
ment and prolonged. A strong detachment of the Life 
Guards closed the procession. 

Upon arriving at St. James's the royal party alighted 
under a covered way erected at the private entrance from 
the garden. The passage of the processions through Queen 
Anne's Room, the Tapestry-Room, and the Armory, was a 
scene splendid and impressive. The ladies who occupied 
the seats prej^ared for the occasion, and the greater part 
of whom were in the bloom of youth, were all in full 
court- dress, and the dazzling effect of their jewels and 
feathers, their silks and laces, but above all, their natural 
charms, may easily be miagined. They rose as each pro- 
cession passed before them, and did homage to it by a 
deep obeisance, which was graciously acknowledged by her 
Majesty and the other principal personages. 

Most of the gentlemen present wore a military or a 
naval imiform, and the flashing of swords and the glitter 
of gold lace added yet another feature of brilliancy to the 
scene. At the top of the great staircase leading to the 
Color Court were the initials of the bride and bridegroom, 
formed of white flowers upon a background of evergreens, 
plaited so as to compose a rich natural tapestry, the whole 
supported by palm branches, displaying the colors of Eng- 
land and Prussia. The railings and balustrades were richly 
gilded and decorated with flowers, and on the landings of 
the stairs were immense draped mirrors, which reflected 
and multiplied the j^rocessions as they passed, still further 
increasing the magnificence of the spectacle. 



FREDERIC WILLIAM AND PRINCESS VICTORIA. 339 

THE COLONNADE. 

The greatest portion of the spectators who were achnit- 
ted by tickets within the Palace wei'e accommodated in 
the Colonnade, along which the three processions passed 
from the state-rooms to the chapel. The entrance to these 
seats was from the lower end of St Jiimes's Street, and 
before the hour of opening the doors, a crowd, chiefly of 
ladies, had gathei'ed roxmd them. The arrangements were 
carried out very punctually. At ten precisely, the ticket- 
holders were admitted ; and though there was something of 
a rush, yet, as access to the tojj tier of seats that rose 
from the pillar side of the colonnade upwards was given 
by three separate stairways, there was no confusion. The 
first-comers chose the best seats, and the lower tiers were 
speedily occupied. 

The seats were covered with scarlet cloth, crossed by 
blue lines marking the space for each person. But as the 
majority were ladies, it required some polite intei'ference 
on the part of the attendants, and much compression of 
voluminous skirts, before the seats could be made to hold 
the appointed number. In half an hour the whole space 
was filled. Then began the period of waiting, incident to 
all such occasions ; it was euhveued by the frequent pass- 
ing of uniforms up and down the Colonnade, the heralds 
and pursuivants being especially active ; now and then a 
Minister, a Gold Stick, or some well-known military name 
was noted. There were some errors of course ; Clarence, 
King at Arms, was mistaken for a Yeoman of the Guard, 
and a party of diplomatists were generally supposed to be 
Prussian footmen. Random speculations of this kind, and 
criticisms of each other's toilets by the ladies, filled up 
the time very agreeably. 

The prevailing style of dress was befitting a bridal ; 
there were so many white bonnets and gauzy veils that it 
might have been supposed a large number of brides had 



340 'JCJIE COURT OF PRUSSIA. 

been disj^ersed among the spectators. There were singn- 
lurly few gentlemen ; parties had evidently been made up 
with only the indispensable amount of male escort. Tlie 
scene, therefore, was all color, tier on tier, like a brilliant 
slope of Howers. The spaces between the pillars of the 
Colonnade Avere hung with wreaths of ivy, holly, and other 
evergreens, fastened with rosettes and streamers of white 
satin ; the opposite wall was similarly decorated, with the 
addition of bouquets of palm leaves and tlowers. Beneath 
every rosette was the plume and helmet of a tall guards- 
man, also his cuirass, and finally, his boots; the red coat 
being all but merged in the scarlet drapery behind him. 

Shortly before twelve, an order to these statue-like war- 
riors to "carry swords," produced a clash and glancing of 
steel for a salute, and the Princess of Prussia and her at- 
tendants passed into the chapel. 

Soon after twelve, the sound o( trumpets advancing from 
the inner apartments, gave notice of the approach of her 
Majesty ; as the head of the procession entered the Colon- 
nade, the spectators rose, and the line passed to the 
chapel. 

Her Royal Highness looked pale, but returned the greet- 
ing with which she was welcomed very gracefully, and 
with perfect self-possession. A more beautiful sight can 
scarcely be imagined than that presented by these groups 
while passing; but beautiful even as a spectacle, the gen- 
eral feeling it awakened was something better than admira- 
tion. The sincerest wishes for the happiness of the young 
and royal bride accompanied her on her way. 

THE CHAPEL ROYAL. 

The entrance to the Chapel Eo^-al was in the Ambassa- 
dors' Court, fronting the windows from which her Majesty 
was proclaimed in June, 1837. It was the usual narrow 
doorway, almost close imder the apartments where Mar- 



FREDERIC WILLIAM AND PRINCESS VICTORIA. 341 

shal Bliiclier was lodged in 1S15, and out of the windows 
of which he used to lean and return the greetings of the 
crowds that assemljled in the court to gaze upon him. 

Among all the alterations which the Chajiel Koyal has 
imdergone, those wdiich were m;ide for lliis ceremonial 
are by no means among the least. Ilolbcin himself 
Avould not have known his work amid the improvements ; 
and that they were great improvements may bo judged 
from the fact that the interior of the Iniilding looked not 
only rich but almost spacious, and as if it really was 
meant to accommodate a number of visitors. The old 
high pews had been entirely swept away, and a sufhciently 
broad path left up the centre of the building from the 
doorway to the altar. On either side of this, rising one 
above the other, are four rows of seats, covered with crim- 
son and bordered witli gold lace. These accommodate one 
hundred and fifty persons, — the gentlemen being allowed 
a space of twenty inches and the ladies no more than two 
feet. The latter indulgence, however, as it turned out, was 
a most feeble and inadequate concession to the fashions of 
the day, and great was the struggling and grievous the 
injury to robes of state before the ladies could reduce 
themselves to the required standard. 

Above the.se seats and along the walls at each side, 
at about eight feet from the ground, two galleries had 
been erected, which were intended to be temporary, but 
which were so massively constructed, so richly adorned, 
and effected such a great improvement in the interior, tliat 
it was to be hoped they would be suffered to remain. The 
cornice of the galleries was ornamented with a handsome 
scroll-work of carved oak in keeping with the rest of the 
chapel ; light blue and gold columns supported them in 
the front, and from the spandrels of the arches sprung gold 
headings, marking the outline of the whole in the most 
tasteful manner. Over each column was a shield with the 
royal cypher surmounted with the crown, and a light hand- 



342 THE COURT OF PRUSSIA. 

some railing of blue and gold closed the whole in front. 
These galleries hold, when full, rather less than one hun- 
dred and fifty peers and peei'esses, making the total num- 
ber of seated visitors who could witness the ceremony 
from all parts of the chapel not quite three hundred. 

There were other places than these, however, in wliich 
many peers and peeresses were j^laced, but angels' visits 
are frequent compared with the number of glimpses which 
they could have had of what was passing. We presume, 
however, the privilege of being under the same roof when 
the ceremonial took place was considered all-sufficient. 
The seats jDrovided for the representatives of the public 
press were really excellent and well placed, affording ample 
accommodation for all the journalists present. They were 
on the basement floor, on the left-hand side, and corre- 
sponded with the seats occupied by most of her Majesty's 
Ministers on the right of the chapel. According to a 
popular court fiction, however, no reporters were sujjposed 
to be present. 

At the upper end of the chapel, round the haut-pas and 
altar, all the walls had been hung with the richest crimson 
silk velvet with a deep and massive bullion fringe. The 
effect of this was rather too heavy, and in the shadows 
and corners of the sacred building it seemed so dark in 
tone as to have almost the appearance of black drapery. 
But for the extra window which had been added to that 
end of the chapel, this would have been a most serious 
error. The altar was draped in the same style, and 
a beautiful semi -circular communion -rail runs round the 
whole. The communion-table was heightened to bear the 
gold plate, which showed gorgeously upon the crimson 
velvet. The plate here was most massive, though not so 
antique as is generally supposed, the saints of the Com- 
monwealth having manifested a most carnal weakness for 
the beautiful service which was given to the church by 
Charles I. 



FREDERIC WILLIAM AND PRINCESS VICTORIA. 343 

One noble flagon of this set, however, still remains, 
though the history of the hair-broadth 'scapes fi'om the 
grasp of the fifth-monarchj men would almost fill a vol- 
ume. The rest of the service, including the noljle and 
lofty candelabra and the large salver of the Last Supper, 
was mostly of the time of Anne and the first George. It 
includes a massive gold service of Anne's reign, — the only 
one of the kind in the possession of the crown. Eound 
the altar, on the right and left, forty or fifty magnificent 
settees in crimson and gold were carefully arranged. The 
low chair of state on the left, with five little stools, two 
at one side and three at the other, showed at once where 
her Majesty would sit, surrounded by her royal children. 
Her Majesty's pew, over the entrance, was richly dressed 
and decorated anew for the accommodation of the Corps 
Diplomatique, all the chief meml^ers of which were, of 
course, to be j^resent on such an occasion. 

The first visitors who arrived at the chapel were Lord 
Campbell and Lady Stratheden. His lordship wore his rich 
collar of office, fastened at each shoulder with white fiivors. 
Following in rapid succession came the Countess of Mul- 
grave, the Hon. Mrs. Grey, the Countess of Bessborough, 
Viscountess Sydney, Viscountess Combermere, Lady Ernest 
Bruce, Lady Foley, Lady Alfred Paget, etc. All these 
ladies wore full court dress, with plumes and jewels, and 
their arrival enabled one to form a fair idea of the match- 
less brilliancy the appearance of the chapel would present 
when filled. A group of heralds in their tabards, embla- 
zoned with all the heraldic devices of the British Empire, 
— Clarencieux Kina; of Arms, Norrov Kinsr of Arms, and 
Garter Principal King of Arms, — were the next gorgeous 
additions to the general tableaux. 

The Right Hon. M. T. Baines and Mrs. Baines were 
the first of the Ministerial visitors. Mr. Baines wore the 
Ministerial uniform, but no wedding favor, neither did Mr. 



344 THE COUUT OF PRUSSIA. 

Vernon Smith, nor Mr. Laboucliere. These, however, were 
the only exceptions. 

It was now near eleven o'clock, and the visitors began 
to pour in rapidly. The Marchioness of Clanricarde came, 
then Sir Charles and Lady Mary Wood, Lord and Lady 
Stanley of Alderly, Lord and Lady Ebury, the Earl and 
Countess of Hardwicke, Lord and Lady Panmure, Sir George 
and Lady Grey. The Duke of AthoU came in full High- 
land costume. The Duke of Richmond wore the uniform 
of the Sussex Militia, of wdiich he is the Colonel ; the 
Duke of Buccleuch, the uniform of Militia Aide-de-Camp to 
the Queen ; the Duke of Manchester, the uniform of Major 
of the Hunts Militia. 

The Dukes of Newcastle and Argyll Ijoth wore the Min- 
isterial uirifonn, as did also the Earl of Derby. The Duch- 
ess of Eichmond, the Countess of Jersey, the Countess of 
Derby, and Co\mtess Mountedgcumbe, all sat together, the 
first three ladies being particularly conspicuous for the 
richness of their dresses and the brilliancy of their jewels. 
Sir George and Lady Cornewall Lewis, the Marquis of 
Lansdowne, the Marchioness of Abercorn, Marchioness of 
Breadalbane, and Duchess of Wellington were among the 
late comers, as was also the Countess of Granville. 

The names we have mentioned are merely those of the 
visitors who were most conspicuously placed, and though a 
fair average selection as to rank, they w^ere in number but 
a tithe of the distinguished assemblage which crowded the 
buildino;. 

It was now twelve o'clock, and every place was filled 
save those reserved for the royal actors in the ceremonial, 
and their suites. The busy hum of sulxlued laughter and 
constant conversation arose from every part of the little 
building ; feathers waved and diamonds glittered, and the 
whole scene was one of indescribable animation and brill- 
iancy. The dresses of the peeresses who occupied all the 



FREDERIC WILLIAM AND PRINCESS VICTORIA. 345 

front seats of the galleries, though crushed and crumpled so 
that even the most penetrating of court milliners could not 
have recognized them, were hi themselves a pageant, and 
one which for variety in effect and color is seldom seen. 

It was now past twelve o'clock, and the excitement of 
expectation increased every moment. Ladies who were 
driven near the door intrigued successfully to change their 
places with lords who were nearer to the altar. A noble 
countess drops her cloak and shawl over the gallery rail 
on to the lloor with a heavy " flop," and a general titter 
ensues. It was increased as another peeress, looking over, 
moulted the feathers from her head-dress, and they came 
sailing slowly down, and every one looked up much as 
people do at the theatre when a playbill goes eddying 
over into the pit. Suddenly there was a little stir, and 
the Princess of Prussia entered the chapel magnificently 
attired in a robe of white satin, and with her train Ijorne 
by the youthful Comitess Hacke. 

With her Royal Highness came their Highnesses Prince 
Adalbert and Prince Frederic Charles, and a most brilliant 
suite of Prussian officers. The whole brilliant audience of 
the chapel rose en masse and bowed as the Princess Royal's 
mother-in-law elect passed on to the altar. Hardly were 
they seated there, on the left-hand side, when fointly in the 
distance the long-blown, clear, defiant notes of the trumpefr 
ers were heard. They came nearer and nearer, and the 
last arrivals amonti; the visitors hastened to arrange them- 

O CD 

selves, while the officers of the household fell into brilliant 
line along the pathway up the chapel at either side. Step 
by step the advance of the trumpeters was followed ; now 
they were descending the staircase, the regular roll and 
beat of the silver kettle-drums became audible, and the 
prolonged triumphant floiu-ish proclaimed the approach of 
Majesty. 

The trumpeters, pursuivants, clerks, and equerries filed 
off outside the chapel, but the Lord Steward, Norroy, 
44 



346 TilK COURT OF PRUSSIA. 

Clarencieux, Garter, the Lord Privy Seal, the President of 
the Council, the Lord Chancellor, the Earl Marshal of Eng- 
land, and others of high note and rank, all entered. But 
they entered almost luiobserved, for from behind them 
came the Princess Mary of Cambridge, her train borne by 
Lady Arabella Sackville West. A murmur of admiration, 
which neither time nor place could altogether subdue, 
greeted her as she entered the chapel, bowing with stately 
elegance in return for the homage rendered. After her 
Royal Highness came the Duke of Cambridge, attended 
by Colonel Tyrwhitt ; and to the Duke also a tribute of 
cordial respect was paid. 

The Duchess of Cambridge was received in the same 
manner, but a deeper reverence awaited the Duchess of 
Kent, who smilingly, and as to friends, returned the greet- 
ing. The next great notability was the veteran Premier, 
who bore before the Queen the Sword of State in ponder- 
ous solemnity. After this even the Royal Princes are un- 
noticed, and every one bows slowly and dec-ply as her 
Majesty, leading in either hand Prince Arthur and Prince 
Leopold, enters the chapel. Of course, on these occasions 
there is no applause, and nothing but the prolonged obei- 
sances denotes the depth of loyal welcome with which the 
royal mother of the bride is welcomed. 

The Queen looks, as she always looks, kindly and amia- 
ble, but self-possessed and stately. On her head is a crown 
of jewels such as relieves all apprehensions as to the eflect 
which the late Hanoverian "raid" upon the royal caskets 
might have had upon her Majesty's toilet. Courtesying in 
acknowledgment of the profound homage with which she 
is welcomed, her Majesty passes at once to her chair of 
state on the left of the altar, and which is placed be- 
tween the five embroidered settees occupied by the young- 
est Royal children. From this time all remain standing 
in the presence of Majesty, even the Princess of Prussia, 
wh<j stands on the opposite side of the altar. 



FREDERIC WILLIAM AND PRINCESS VICTORIA. 347 

Lord Palniorston, on tlie Queen's right hand, bears the 
Sword of State, while the Duchess of Sutherhmd, herself 
attired in almost royal magnificence, stands on the left by 
right of office as Mistress of the Eobes. Again there is 
another pause of intense interest, and again the drums and 
trumpets are heard, and ushered in with the same im- 
jiosing ceremonies, comes the procession of the bridegroom. 
On the right walks his Royal Highness the Prince of 
Prussia, his fotlier, and on his left his brother, Prince Al- 
bert. All eyes, however, are fixed upon the royal bride- 
groom, as he walks slowly, but with the most perfect 
ease and elegance of action, up the centre of the chapel. 
He wears the uniform of Prussian General, with the in- 
sio;nia of the Order of the Black Eagle of Prussia. 

The uniform shows his tall figure to advantage, and sets 
olT his frank, open countenance and prepossessing bearing. 
Near the altar he stops before her Majesty's chair of 
state, and slowly bows with the most profound reverence, 
and turning to his royal mother, he bows again with 
equal respect, but less deeply than to the Queen, and then, 
kneeling in the centre of the chapel, prays with earnest 
devotion for a few minutes. His prayers ended, he rises, 
and stands at the right hand of the altar, waiting his bride, 
and likewise submitting to such a scrutiny from the hun- 
dreds of brilliant eyes as never bachelor withstood alone 
before. 

Again a pause ensues, — a pause of impressive solemnity, 
for expectation seems wrought to the highest pitch, and 
no one speaks, and few even move to disturb the stately 
solemnity that reigns over the whole interior, while even 
the most illustrious of the royal guests seem struck, and 
gaze with open admiration on the scene around. It is, 
indeed, one Avhich might well rivet the attention of princes, 
one of those gorgeous visions seldom seen and never for- 
gotten, for within the precincts of that little chapel sits 
the throned Sovereign of the British Empire, with her 



348 THE COURT OF PRUSSIA. 

court and prinooly guests, and surrounded by the greatest 
and most influential members of the greatest and most in- 
fluential aristocracy in the whole world. The very build- 
ing, so small, and yet so rich in its contents, almost sug- 
gests the idea of a grand jewel-casket, in which all that 
the nation most values and reverences is put away for 
greater safety. 

After a while, the Chamberlain and Vice-Cliaml)erlain 
again quit the chapel to usher in the jDrocession of the 
bride. The trumjiets were again heard nearer and nearer, 
till again they die away in subdued cadence, Avhich has 
an inexj^ressibly soft and beautiful eflect. 

The great officers of State enter the chapel, but no 
one heeds them, for there is a peculiar movement with- 
out, and a soft rustling of silk is clearly audible. In 
another second the bride is at the dooi-, and stands 
" Queen rose of the rose-bud garden of girls," that bloom 
in fair array behind her. 

The illustrious personage on whom her right hand gently 
rests was the Prince Consort ; on her left stands his Maj- 
esty the King of the Belgians ; both are in full uniform, 
and wear the collars and insignia of the great European 
Order of Knighthood to which each belono-s. All-absorb- 
ing is the interest excited by the appearance of the 
bride herself The gorgeous veil she wears depending from 
her head-dress is thrown off", and hanging in massive folds 
behind, leaving the expression of her face completely visi- 
ble as she walks slowly, her head slightly stooped in 
bashfulness, and her eyes cast down upon the ground. 
Thus all can see distinctly the mild, amiable expression 
of her face, so replete with kindness and deep feeling, and 
that peculiarly touching aspect of sensitiveness, to attempt 
to portray which would " only prove how vainly words 
essay to fix the spark of beauty's heavenly ray." Iler 
bright bloom of color has completely deserted her; and 
even when compared with her snowy dress, her cheeks 



FREDERIC WILLIAM AND PRINCESS VICTORIA. 349 

seem pale, and her wliole appearance denotes tremulous- 
ness and aa-itation. 

In these ceremonies we beheve the dress of tlie Jjrido 
ranks only next in importance to the celebration of the 
service ; but on this occasion the Princess Royal wore one 
so thoroughly in good taste that it is difficult to remark 
anything, save that it is exquisitely becoming, beautiful, 
and white. In fact, its unity only recalls to mind the 
belle of the French Court, who is said to dress Avitli such a 
perfection of good taste that one can never observe what 
she wears. While, however, we mention this as the actual 
oftect of the costume, we may state, for the further infor- 
mation of our readers, that it was manufactured by Mrs. 
Darvill, designed by Miss Janet Fife, and composed of a 
rich robe of white moire antique, ornamented with three 
flounces of Honiton lace. 

The design of the lace consists of bouquets in open 
work of the rose, shamrock, and thistle, in three medallions. 
At the toj) of each flounce in front of the dress are 
wreaths of orange and myrtle Jjlossoms, — the latter being 
the bridal flower of Germany, — every wreath terminating 
with bouquets of the same flowers, and the length of each 
being so graduated as to give the appearance of a robe 
defined by flowers. The apex of this floral pyramid is 
formed by a large bouquet worn on the girdle. The train, 
which is of the unusual length of more than three yards, 
is of white moire antique, trimmed with two rows of 
Honiton lace, surmounted Ijy wreaths similar to those on 
the flounces of the dress, with bouquets at short intervals. 

Next to the interest excited by the appearance of the 
bride herself is the feeling created by the fliir bridesmaids, 
who, "in gloss of satin and glimmer of pearls," follow in 
stately array, bearing up the rich train of the Princess 
Royal between them. The ladies honored with this dis- 
tinguished mark of I'oyal favor are among the personal 
friends of the young bride, and, what is singular, are 



350 THE COURT OF PRUSSIA. 

every one lineally descended from the great royal lionsea 
of England and Scotland. They follow the bride two by 
two — Lady Snsan Charlotte Catherine Pelham Clinton, 
daughter of the Duke of Newcastle ; Lady Cecelia Cath- 
erine Gordon Lennox, daughter of the Duke of Richmond ; 
Lady Katherine Hamilton, daughter of the Marquis of 
Abercorn ; Lady Emma Charlotte Smith Stanley, daughter 
of the Earl of Derby ; Lady Susan Catherine Mary Murray, 
daughter of the Earl of Dunmore ; Lady Constance Villiers, 
daughter of the Earl of Clarendon ; Lady Victoria Noel, 
daughter of the Earl of Gainsborough ; and Lady Cecelia 
Maria Charlotte Molyueux, daughter of the Earl of 
Sefton. 

The dresses worn by this fair train are from a design 
furnished by the illustrious bride herself They consist of 
a white glace petticoat, entirely covered by six deep tulle 
flounces, over which foils a tunic of tulle trimmed with 
ruches of tulle, looped up on one side with a bouquet of 
pink roses and white heather. The body is trhnmed with 
draperies of tulle, with hanging sleeves of the same ma- 
terial trimmed with ruches. A bouquet of the same flow- 
ers is worn in the girdle and upon each shoulder. 

As the bride passes up to the altar, she stops and makes 
a deep reverence to her mother, though with evident agita- 
tion, and her- face flushes like crimson ; then, again turn- 
ing, she renders the same homage to the Prince of Prus- 
sia. As she does so the bridegroom elect advances ; and, 
kneeling on one knee, presses her hand with an expres- 
sion of fervent admiration that moved the august audience. 
Taking their places then at the altar, and with their illus- 
trious relatives standing round in a group of unequalled 
brilliancy, the service commences with the chorale, which 
peals through the little building with the most solemn 
effect. The words are particularly appropriate, full of feel- 
ing and piety, and the audience follow them in a whis- 
pered cadence as the choir sing : — 



FREDERIC WILLIAM AND PRINCESS VICTORIA. 351 

" This day, with glatlsome voice and heart, 
We praise thy name, O Lord ! who art 

Of all good things the giver! 
For England's first-born Hope we pray ! 

Be near her now, and ever ! 
King of kings, Lord of lords. 
Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, 
Hear us, while we kneel before thee ! " 

The liyniu ovei', the Lord Archbishop of Canterbury took 
his place in the centre of the altar, and assisted by the 
Bishoj) of London, as Dean of the Chapel Royal, the 
Bishop of Oxford, as Lord High Almoner, the Bishop of 
Chester, as Clerk of the Closet, the Dean of Windsor, as 
Domestic Chaplain, and the Eev. Dr. Wesley, as Sub-Dean 
of the Chapel Royal, the marriage service is commenced 
at exactly ten minutes to one. 

The usual prayer was then offered, and the Primate, 
joining their hands together, said : " Whom God has joined, 
let no man put asunder." A ^isahu and the Hallelujah 
Chorus followed. 

Hardly had the last words of the chorus died away in 
solemn echoes, when the ceremonial, as arranged by cham- 
berlains and heralds, ended ; and the bride, giving vent to 
her evidently long pent-up feelings, turned and flung her- 
self upon her mother's bosom with a suddenness and depth 
of feeling that thrilled through every heart. Again and 
again her Majesty strained her to her heart and kissed 
her, and tried to conceal her emotion, but it was both 
needless and in vain, for all perceived it, and there were 
few who did not share it. 

We need not mention how the bridegroom embraced 
her, and how, as she quitted him, with the tears now 
plainly stealing down her cheeks, she threw herself into the 
arms of her fother, while her royal husband was embraced 
by the Princess of Prussia in a manner that evinced all 
that only a mother's love can show. The most affecting 



352 THE COURT OF PRUSSIA. 

recognition, however, took place between the bridegroom 
and his royal fixther ; for the latter seemed overpowered 
with emotion, and the former, after clasping him twice to 
his heart, knelt and kissed his parent's hand. 

The Queen then rose, hurrying across the hmd-pas with 
the Prince Consort, embraced the Princess of Prussia as 
one sister would another after long parting, and turning 
to the Prince of Prussia gave him her hand, which, as he 
stooped to kiss, she stopped him, and declined the conde- 
scension by offering her cheek in stead. 

But words will feebly convey the effect of the warmth, 
the abandonment of affection and friendship with which 
these greetings passed, the reverence with which the bride- 
groom saluted her Majesty, the manly heartiness with 
which he wrung the Prince Consort's hand, for by the 
working of his face it was evident he could not trust his 
tongue to speak. 

After a few minutes had been allowed for the illustrious 
personages to recover their composure, during which the 
bride again lost hers, while she received, with all the af- 
fecting warmth of a young and attached family, the con- 
gratulations of her brothers and sisters, the procession pre- 
pared to leave the church. There was some little hurry 
as the various personages fell into their places, but at last 
the bride and bridegroom left. 

There was no mistake about the expression of the bride's 
face as she quitted the sacred building. Her delicate color 
returned, her eyes sparkled with emotion, and there was 
such a light of happiness upon her features as she turned 
upon her royal husband a look of the most supreme affec- 
tion, that even the most reserved felt moved, and an 
audible " God bless her ! " passing from mouth to month 
accompanied her on her way. 

The procession of her Majesty then passed to the throne- 
room in the same order in which it entered the chapel. 
There on a splendid table lay the register, in which the 



FREDERIC WILLIAM AND PRINCESS VICTORIA. 353 

ceremony was entered, and duly attested, by an immense 
number of those j^resent and by the members of the royal 
flimilies in the following order: Victoria, Albert, (Prince 
Consort,) Prince of Prussia, Augusta, (Princess of Prussia 
and Duchess of Saxony,) Leopold, Victoria, Albert, Edward, 
Alfred, Alice, Augusta, George, Mary Adelaide. 

In the evening the illumination of the city of London 
was general, including the residences of the several foreign 
Ambassadors and Ministers. "A simple gas star shone outr 
side the house of the Ambassador of the United States." 

Various demonstrations of rejoicing and loyalty took 
jilace in different parts of the country. In most places 
the day was observed as a holiday. At Manchester and 
the vicinity dinners were given to the poor. At Liverpool 
flags were exhibited, the shipping was gayly dressed, and 
the church bells were rung. 

The history of the Prince and Princess since the date of 
their nuptials is well known. Their home is at Berlin, at 
the capital of Prussia, waiting, perhaps anticipating, the 
time when they will become King and Queen of Prussia. 



45 




ENJ, " JvV STEtX BY Jdim SAHTJUffrMIL^ 



¥ (D ¥ O ^i E Ml i^ M y ^■. [k 
KING or SARn:y 



THE COUIIT OF SARDINIA. 



KING VICTOR EMMANUEL. 

The House of Savoy, of which King Victor Emmanuel is 
the present head, is one of the most ancient sovereign 
families in Europe. It descended from the old Counts 
of Sardinia, of remote ages. Although it is one of the 
most ancient and most illustrious in Europe, there are 
few reigning families in existence on the origin of which 
so many contradictory versions have been given. All 
authors agree in carrying back its genealogy to the 
ninth or tenth century ; but while some of them with 
much appearance of probability derive it from the ancient 
Kings or Aries, the Princes of the House of Savoy them- 
selves appear to accredit a statement according to which 
the famous Saxon Chief Witikind is the founder of the 
royal House of Sardinia. However this may be, Bertold, 
and his son Humbert, the White-handed, were Counts of 
Savoy in the first half of the eleventh century, and one 
branch possessed the Principality of Piedmont. It became 
extinct in 1418, and that principality was reunited by 
Amed^e VIII., chief of the second branch, whom the Em- 
peror Sigismund created Duke of Savoy. In 1631 the 
house acquired the Duchy of Montferrat. Victor Am^- 
d(?e II., Duke of Savoy, was in 1713 made King of Sicily, 
and in 1720 he exchanged that kingdom for that of Sar- 
dinia. His son, Charles Emmanuel HI., acquired a consid- 
erable part of the Milanais. In 1815 the territory of the 
ancient republic of Genoa was united to the Sardinian 



356 THE COURT OF SARDINIA. 

monarchy, which is now composed as follows : The island 
of Sardinia, 430 geographical miles in extent ; Duchy of 
Savoy, 176; Principality of Piedmont, 369; Duchy of Mont- 
ferrat, 49 ; part of the Duchy of Milan, 147 ; and the 
Duchy of Genoa, 110 ; in all 1,277 geographical miles, 
with a population amounting at the last census to 4,300,- 
000 inhabitants. The House of Savoy has contracted 
several alliances with the old royal house of France. 
Louis XVIII. and Charles X. married the two daughters 
of Victor Amedee III., King of Sardinia, but both these 
princesses died before their husbands had ascended the 
throne of France. 

King Victor Emmanuel is son of Charles Amedee Albert, 
of Savoy-Carignan, and the Princess Maria Theresa, daugh- 
ter of Ferdinand, Grand Duke of Tuscany. He was born 
on the fourteenth of March, 1820, and is at present in his 
forty-second year. 

At the time of his accession the flame of insurrection, 
never in a more righteous cause, had spread through Italy, 
and Lombardy had risen against Austria. The King of 
Sardinia and Piedmont w^ell knew the strength of the 
power thus braved — too well for success. He delayed his 
military movements until he appeared to have been forced 
to adopt them ; and this caution, justifiaJjle on narrow 
views of policy, caused tei'rible reverses to his arms. 

On the twenty-third of March, 1848, one month after 
the downfall of Louis Phihppe, Carlo Alberto issued the 
proclamation by which he raised the Piedmontese flag as 
the " standard of Italian unity." His force consisted of two 
corps d'armee and a reserve, which last was under the com- 
mand of the Duke of Savoy, the subject of our memoir ; 
it numbered about twenty thousand men. The artillery 
was commanded by the Duke of Genoa, the second son, 
since deceased. A sei'ies of strategic manoeuvres, which ap- 
pear to be universally condemned, resulted in an engage- 
ment before the walls of Vei'ona. The success was about 



KING VICTOR EMMANUEL. 357 

equal on either side. The Sardinians had hoped for a 
rising within the city ; they therefore retired without be- 
ing beaten ; while Radetzky considered that he had gained 
the day, inasmuch as the Piedmontese failed in their ob- 
ject. All accounts agree that the Duke of Savoy behaved 
with great gallantry, and fully sustained the military honor 
of his house. The King of Sardinia next took the fortress 
of Peschiera, and here, too, the Duke of Savoy distin- 
guished himself ; but his principal exploits were in the 
engagement at Goito, whence, after a whole day's fighting, 
he dislody-ed the Austrians, and drove them alon"; the ritrht 
bank of the Mincio back on Mantua. Then came the lonsr, 
tedious, and fruitless attack on Mantua, which furnished 
Eadetzky with the time necessary to concentrate his forces. 
Then came a series of disasters to the Piedmontese arms. 
The lines of Carlo Alberto were forced in several places ; 
l)ut his army fought with a gallantry Avhich promised vic- 
tory, when, the Austrians suddenly receiving reinforcements 
to the number of twenty thousand men, the flank of the 
Piedmontese army was turned, and Carlo Alberto was forced 
to recross the Mincio. The present King took part in 
these transactions, and displayed all the qualities of a gal- 
lant soldier. On the third of August, the Piedmontese, 
pursued by the Austrians, entered Milan, which, however, 
they soon quitted, as the citizens capitulated. This was fol- 
lowed by a truce, and finally led to the evacuation of 
Lombardy by the Piedmontese. It was during the progress 
of these events that the throne of Sicily was offered by 
the insurrectionai-y jiarty to the Duke of Genoa, the sec- 
ond son of Carlo Alberto, and, after some coy hesitation, 
refused. 

The year 1849 was destined to witness new efforts on 
the part of Carlo Alberto, and still greater reverses. The 
King opened the Parliament on the first of February, with 
a speech wherein he spoke warmly of Italian unity, and 
called on the nation to aid in the sacrifices necessary to 



358 THE COURT OF SARDINIA. 

continue the war. In adopting this course, he was rather 
forced than otherwise by the miscalculating enthusiasm of 
his people. 

The liberal institutions granted by the late King' Charles 
Albert in 1848 have been maintained by his son and succes- 
sor, the present King Victor Ennnanuel ; and during the last 
ten years the country, under a wise and enlightened admin- 
istration, has made great progress in agricultural improve- 
ments, in commerce, in general wealth, and in education. 

Such was the state of Sardinia in January, 1859. Since 
that time important events have happened, which, for a 
time, seemed to endanger her liberties, if not her existence 
as an independent power. In the summer of 1859 a 
gigantic struggle was waged between powerful armies, and 
strewed the plains of Northern Italy with human bodies. 
The causes which brought on this terril^le conflict are full 
of historic interest. The events and their results are a 
part of the life and times of Victor Emmanuel. After the 
conclusion of the disastrous war with Austria in 1848 and 

1849, the I'elations between Sardinia and that country, far 
from being on a friendly footing, had been such as to lead 
at last to an interruption of diplomatic relations. For 
years previous to the war, whenever any attempt was 
made by any of the Italian States for freedom, the iron 
hand of Austria interposed to reestablish the stringent 
despotisms of the former governments. The constitutional 
charters, granted in 1848, were, in the course of 1849 and 

1850, suppressed, and a despotic and reactionary policy 
resorted to. 

Sardmia alone, after 1848, preserved her liberal institu- 
tions, and fairly worked out a regular constitutional gov- 
ernment. Hence her very jiosition as a free State, in 
direct antagonism to the military despotism by which the 
Lombardo-Venetian kingdom was swayed, became a stand- 
ing menace to Aiistria. 

Under such circumstances it was evident that Austria 



KING VICTOR EMMANUEL. 359 

would never have a peaceful supremacy in Italy, so long 
as a constitutional government existed in Sardinia. This 
state of things had Ijcen growing worse, when a few sig- 
nificant words of menace ofiered by the French Emperor 
to the Austrian Ambassador at Paris, on New Year's Day, 
1859, accelerated a crisis, which otherwise would have been 
only delayed, not avoided. Austria, suspecting the exist- 
ence of an accord against her between France and Sar- 
dinia, poured a formidable force into Italy, and assumed a 
threatening attitude towards the latter power, by bringing 
a division of her army up to the frontier, on the Ticino. 
Sardinia, under the able ministry of Count Cavour, pro- 
tested against the Austrian movements. At the same time 
she made preparations for defence, and applied to England 
and France for assistance in case of an attack. The re- 
lations between France and Sardinia grew at this time 
closer, by means of a marriage between Princess Clotilde, 
a daughter of King Victor Emmanuel, and Prince Louis 
Napoleon. 

Whilst arrangements for a peaceful solution of the diffi- 
culties were going on by some of the powers, Austria 
addressed to Sardinia a peremptory summons to disarm 
within three days. The Sardinian government having an- 
swered that though it was unreasonable for the strong to 
ask the weak to disarm, yet they would abide by the de- 
cision of France and England. After a few days, at the 
end of April, the Austrian army in three bodies crossed the 
Ticino, and invaded the Sardinian territoiy. Meanwhile a 
laro-e French force, which was sent on at the first news 
of the Austrian summons, began to pour its columns into 
Italy, across the Mont Cenis and the Mont Genevre, and 
by Genoa, in aid of the Sardinians; and on the twelftn 
of May the French Emperor himself landed at the latter 
place, and assumed the command -in -chief of the French 
and Sardinian armies. 

An Imperial manifesto promised the independence of 



360 THE COURT OF SARDINIA. 

Italy, from the Mediterranean to the Adriatic Sea, and 
for a time it seemed as if the promise was to be fulfilled. 
In less than two months from the commencement of hos- 
tilities, the Austrians, beaten in every encounter, were driven 
back from the Sesia and the Po, bej^ond the'Mincio. The 
main body of the French army, assembled at first around 
Alessandria in large forces, were afterwards concentrated on 
the right, and seemed to aim at Piacenza, and forcing a 
passage of the Po, between that fortress and Pavia ; an 
endeavor of the Austrians to dislodge them from their 
jiosition led, on the twentieth of May, to the battle of 
Montabello. The French were reposing within their lines, 
when, at eleven o'clock a. m., the Piedmontese outposts gave 
the alai-m. A Sardinian cavalier, covered with blood and 
dust, galloped into the French camp calling out " To arms ! 
The Austrians ! " After a sanguinary contest for six hours 
the Austrians were repulsed, driven out of Montabello, and 
fairly beaten. By a number of strategetic movements the 
allies out-flanked the right wing of the Austrian army. 
On the second of June, General McMahon, with his divis- 
ion, threw a bridge over and crossed the Ticino, and 
marched towards Magenta, on the road to Milan, whilst 
the Emperor, with other army corps, advanced towards 
the brido-e of Buffalora. 

The Austrians having learned, on the night of the 
second, the passage of the Ticino, rapidly sent across that 
river three army corps, and on the fourth opposed at once 
the passage at BufiUlora and attacked McMahon's division 
at Magenta. A fearful struggle took place, in which the 
troops on each side engaged in the action exceeded 
100,000 men. After a sanguinary conflict, which lasted 
more than eight hours, during which the Imperial and 
Sardinian Guards took and retook the position six times, 
at half-past four o'clock p. m., the allies remained masters 
of the field of battle. The Austrians, having had 15,000 
killed and wounded, withdrew, leaving four guns, two flags, 



KING VICTOR EMMANUEL. 361 

5,000 prisoners, 12,000 muskets, and 30,000 knapsacks. The 
loss of the allies was put down at 4,000. This victory was 
followed up by another signal success at Melegnauo, at 
which the Austrian loss was 2,000 and the French 943, in- 
cluding sixty-nine officers. 

On the eighth of June, — the day of the battle of Mele- 
gnano, — Napoleon III. and Victor Emmanuel entered Milan, 
amid the enthusiastic greetings of the inhabitants. On the 
same day, by a proclamation to the Italians, Napoleon III., 
after disclaiming any view of personal ambition, or enlarge- 
ment of the territory of France, and only claiming the 
moral influence of contributing to render free one of the 
most beautiful parts of Europe, invited them all to unite 
in one sole object, the enfranchisement of their own coun- 
try. "Form a military organization," he continued, "hasten 
all of you, to place yourselves under the flag of King Vic- 
tor Emmanuel, who has already so nobly shown you the 
path of honor." 

On the twenty-second of June, the hostile annies, after 
various changes of position, had come so nearly face to 
face as to make it evident that a great battle was immi- 
nent. The allies were encamped between the Chiese and 
the Mincio. The Austrian forces were on the left bank of 
the Mincio, resting with their right on Peschiera and Ve- 
rona and with their left wing on Mantua. On the twenty- 
third the Austrians poured out their numbers from Mantua, 
Verona, and Peschiera, and led by their young Emperor, 
Francis Joseph, who had assumed the command-in-chief, in 
the course of the evening, crossed the Mincio at four dif- 
ferent i^laces, confident of defeating the allies, and driving 
them beyond the Chiese. 

On the twenty-fourth, one of the bloodiest battles on 
record took place. The Austrians began the attack at 
daylight, and at ten o'clock a. m. the whole of the two 
armies had come into collision. The battle lasted fifteen 
hours, and extended along a line of nearly eighteen miles 

46 



362 THE COURT OF SARDINIA. 

from the neighborhood of Brescia down towards Mantua. 
The right wing of the Anstrians occupied Pozzolengo, where 
they met the Sardinians, and their centre w^as at Solferino. 
The day was decided 1)y a concentrated attack, made 
about three o'clock p. m. by the French Emperor on Sol- 
ferino, a village in a commanding position, where the Aus- 
trians had fortified themselves. After several hours of des- 
perate fighting, the place was carried by the French, who, 
thereby breaking the Austrians' centre, moved large masses 
against then- left wing ; which being pushed on almost to 
Chiese, was in danger of being surrounded and cut out. 
Late in the evening, the young Emperor of Austria, 
Francis Joseph, with tears in his eyes, saw that the day 
was irrecoverably lost, and gave the order for the retreat 
bej'ond the Mincio, which was accomplished under the pro- 
tection of a violent storm that had begun to rage since 
three o'clock in the afternoon. 

Few battles in modern history have been marked with 
more slaughter and horror. More than 300,000 human 
beings were brought into a close fight, and at night 35,000 
of them, at least, were dead or dying. The French had 
12,720 killed and wounded, and the Sardinians 5,525. The 
Austrian loss was about 18,000. Numerous prisoners, thir- 
teen pieces of cannon, and large quantities of arms and 
ammunition, fell into the hands of the allies ; and Napoleon 
III. slept at Solferino in the very apartment which the 
previous night had been occupied by Francis Joseph. On 
the first of July the allies received a reinforcement of 
35,000 men brought by Prince Napoleon through Florence 
and Modena. Whilst the Sardinians were investing Pes- 
chiera, and the French Emperor Avith the main body of 
his army was approaching Verona, the startling news was 
received that Napoleon had sent an aide-de-camj) to ask 
for an armistice. On the seventh of July, an armistice 
was concluded between him and Francis Joseph, and com- 
missioners were appointed to agree ujion its terms. On 



KING VICTOR EMMANUEL. 363 

the eleventh, the two Emperors met at Villafranca and 
signed articles of peace. The intelligence of the peace and 
its terms were received with bitter disappointment in Italy. 
Several of the states of Italy had expressed a wish to 
unite themselves with Sardinia against Austria, and place 
themselves under Victor Emmanuel. On the third of Sep- 
tember a Tuscan de^^utation presented to Victor Emmanuel, 
at Turin, an address from the Tuscan Assembly to form 
part of an Italian Kingdom. Soon afterwards Parma and 
Modena and the iEmilian provinces of the Papal States 
decided by an overwhelming majority to be annexed to 
the Constitutional Monarchy of Victor Emmanuel II. This 
led to a change of title from Kingdom of Sardinia to the 
Kingdom of Italy. Following these events and changes, an 
insurrection broke out in Sicily, of which Garibaldi soon 
became the successful leader, which extended to the main- 
land, till on the eleventh of September Garibaldi entered 
Naples. October twenty-first, the people of the Two Sicilies, 
almost by a vmanimous vote, declared for annexation to the 
Kingdom of Italy and the government of Victor Emmanuel. 
Meanwhile the divisions of the Sardinian army had marched 
into the Abruzzi, and Victor Emmanuel had advanced tow- 
ards Naples. On the twenty-sixth of October he met Gari- 
baldi at Teano, and entered Naples on the seventh of No- 
vember in company with the Liberator, amid gi'eat popular 
rejoicings of the people. _ By the annexation of Umbria, 
and Ancona, King Victor Emmanuel soon found himself 
the sovereign of a kingdom of 22,000,000 of inhabitants. 
The wishes of the people and the eflbrts of Victor Em- 
manuel and his government to achieve the entire posses- 
sion of Italy, including the city of Rome for the future 
capital, are too recent and well known to need recounting 
here. The delay of the Emperor Napoleon III. to with- 
draw his troops from Rome, the lamented death of Count 
Cavour, the great statesman of Italy, the more recent and 
renewed efforts of the brave and noble hero. Garibaldi, to 



364 THE COURT OF SARDINIA. 

achieve the complete unity of Italy, and his unfortunate 
wound and capture, have excited the deep interest, and 
the sympathy of nations and the world. 

This brief sketch will serve to present not only King 
Victor Emmanuel in his character and relations to Italy 
and the nations ; but also to bring into view two other 
imperial personages, who have acted and are still acting 
important parts on the great theatre of Europe. 




Wiim OFMBJISTIIRS _ . 



COUNT DE CAVOUR, 

THE GREAT STATESMAN OF ITALY AND OF EUROPE. 



" Those whom the gods love, die young," said the an- 
cients : how fortunate would they have esteemed one who 
had carried through, with uniform success, an enterprise 
of such unparalleled audacity that, to borrow the words 
of Clarendon, speaking of the great patriot statesman 
Hampden, he alone had " a heart to conceive, a head to 
contrive, a tongue to persuade, and a hand to execute it ; " 
and who then died just as he had set his seal on the 
undertaking which, from being the dream of his youth, 
became the labor of his manhood, and finally, his claim to 
the grateful homage of all future generations, sinking down 
into his grave in the full glory of his intellect, at the very 
pinnacle of power and fame, amid the tears of friends and re- 
lations, mourned for by millions of his own nation who had 
never even seen his face, while neighboring peoples echoed 
back the note of woe, and his very enemies bowed their 
heads in respectful awe. Such fortune would have seemed 
too much for any one child of earth; yet this was in very 
truth the lot of Camillo Benso, Coimt de Cavour, so lately 
removed from amongst us. Posterity will probably record 
as its verdict that, though too soon for Italy, for himself 
his death was the crowning fortune of his life ; so high 
had he climbed, that even fresh successes could scarcely 
have seemed other than a descent after those that had 
gone before. In some sense, indeed, his work may be 
called incomplete, since he sank, like Moses, on the thresh- 



366 THE COURT OF SARDINIA. 

old of the promised land ; yet so clearly had he marked 
out the road to be pursued, that the Joshua who caught 
the emblems of command as they dropped from his dying 
hand, can scarcely win greater glory than by steadily exe- 
cuting his plans, the triumph of the living being itself a 
new tribute to the memory of the dead. It was the sin- 
gular characteristic of Count de Cavour to inspire attach- 
ment, no less than admiration ; and as all earthly affection 
is proverbially selfish, those who at any time had the privi- 
lege of aj^proaching him, cannot but share in the passion- 
ate, and, as it were, personal grief of the Italian peojjle, at 
the loss of their " Papa Camillo," as the great statesman 
was affectionately termed, and feel that they would fain 
have seen his days prolonged, albeit at the expense of dra- 
matic propriety. But he is gone to the bourn whence 
none ever return ; and, that lamentation may not be alto- 
gether in vain, it is well, before the rapid current of pass- 
ing events sweeps us too far away, to cast a tributary 
flower of respect on the lowly tomb of Santena, and seek 
to garner up the moral lesson which we cannot fail to 
derive from considering the life and character of one in 
whom a gi'eat state recognizes a founder and a creator. 

Camillo Benso, Count de Cavour, Avas born at Turin on 
the tenth of August, 1810, the second son of an ancient 
and illusti'ious race, tracing back its pedigree far into the 
Dark Ages, when we find it already in j^ossession of the 
fiefs of Chieri, which, acquired about 1150, are still owned 
by the family; and accordingly its then head, the Mar- 
quis Michael Josej^h, was a thorough representative of the 
haughty and bigoted aristocracy of Piedmont (so much so 
that the memory of the father for a long while cast a 
doubtful shadow over the liberal opinions of the son) ; while 
his wife sprang from the no less noble Genevese house of 
Sellon. Though born at the very zenith of the first French 
Emjiire, the future statesman was scarcely more than an in- 
fant when the sudden extinction of that sj^lendid meteor 



COUNT DE CAVOUR. 367 

brought back from tlie ishind of Sardinia Victor Enuiian- 
uel I., with all the antiquated religious, political, and legisla- 
tive institutions of old Piedmont in his train ; and therefore, 
after having received the first rudiments of education at 
the hands of the Jesuits, he was consigned, in 1820, to the 
military college of Turin, whence he issued after some 
years as the page of King Carlo Felice, the last prince of 
the elder line of the House of Savoy. He, however, found 
the jiosition of a courtier so uncongenial, that at the age 
of eighteen he was glad to exchange it for that of a lieu- 
tenant in a regiment of engineers quartered at Genoa. 

Though so young, he had already attained such profi- 
ciency in his professional studies, that he was soon em- 
ployed in making surveys of the passes of the Alps and 
Apennines ; and it is a singular coincidence that one of the 
earliest public employments of the statesman who, toward 
the close of his career, was destined to fix the political 
frontiers of his country at the natural mountain boundary, 
should have been tlie drawing up of plans for the con- 
struction of a fort intended to guard the road from Genoa 
to Nice. But neither military pursuits, nor the pleasures 
of his age and society, which Count de Cavour never 
ceased to enjoy with the keenest relish, sufficed to absorb 
all the activity of his restless mind. French had been the 
language of his infancy, and to his death was more famil- 
iar to him than even Italian. While still a youth he made 
himself master of English, which ho both spoke and wrote 
with remarkable facility, and became deeply engaged in the 
study of Adam Smith and other works bearing on political 
economy, finance, or the political institutions of England ; 
so that it is no exaggeration if we date from this early 
period his deep-rooted admiration and attachment for that 
country. The politics of the day also excited his earnest 
attention, and while he watched the progress of the Eng- 
lish Reform Bill with the liveliest interest, he was already 
beginning to meditate on the fortunes of Italy. His liberal 



368 THE COURT OF SARDINIA. 

opinions were too manifest for liira not to incur the dis- 
pleasin-e of the authorities ; and, in 1832, some unguarded 
expressions consigned him as a punishment to the gloomy 
garrison of Fort du Bard, in the valley of Aosta. 

In 1835, Count de Cavour left Italy for the first time, 
and during the seven ^-eai's he spent abroad, resided al- 
ternately in Switzerland, France, and England. The last 
was the country of his preference ; and had the futin-e 
been unveiled before him, he could scarcely have prepared 
himself for his great destiny as parliamentary leader and 
constitutional minister more judiciously, than by the as- 
siduity and eagerness with which he followed the debates 
of the House of Commons, and studied every social, agri- 
cultural, and financial subject that his quick S23irit of obser- 
vation brought imder his notice. His views on all these 
2:)oints formed the matter of various pamphlets, in which 
he first developed his talents as a writer ; — that on the 
state and prospects of Ireland, in which we may trace the 
germination of his ideas on legal resistance to oppression 
and parliamentary warfare, may be especially cited as one 
of the most appreciative and remarkable productions on 
English affairs which ever flowed from a foreign pen; — and 
when Count de Cavour returned home in 1842, it was to 
apply practically the lessons he had learned abroad. 

Times had changed for the better in the course of ten 
years ; and though the field of political action was still 
closed, the activity of a thoughtful lover of his country 
might find vent in other directions. The death of his 
father having by this time put him in possession of a con- 
siderable fortune and large landed estates, he began prac- 
tically to essay the theories he propounded at Turin, em- 
ploying as much eloquence and earnestness to persuade his 
bailiff of the merits of an improved plow, or a new breed 
of pigs, as he afterward devoted to inducing the Chambers 
to adopt some political plan of unparalleled boldness ; for 
it was characteristic of the man to throw himself heart 



COUNT DE CAVOUR. 369 

and soul into tlie prosecution of any idea that seized hold oi" 
him, and while no sclienie was too vast for his intelligence, 
no detail seenaed too small to engross his whole attention. 

Five years thus passed away ; till, toward the end of 
1847, deeming that the time for more direct efforts had at 
length come, he set x\-p the " Risorgimento," a paper of 
moderate and constitutional liberal views, destined to exert 
no inconsiderable influence, in conjunction with his friends. 
Counts Balbo and 8anta Rosa, Buoncompagni, and Azeglio, 
himself assmniug the office of chief writer and responsible 
editor. Events were now rapidly maturing to a crisis ; the 
liberalism displayed by Pius IX. at the commencement of 
his reign, had acted like a spark igniting a train of gun- 
jjowder ; the Italian party everywhere raised its head ; and 
in the lirst days of 1848 the liberals of Piedmont met to 
consider the course they should pursue. The majority, in- 
cluding the most violent democrats, were in favor of ask- 
ing for reforms, when Count de Cavour suddenly advocated 
the demand for a constitution. "Give us but the liberty 
of speech and writing," he exclaimed, " and all else will 
speedily follow." A petition was drawn up in accordance 
with this view, which, though never formally presented to 
the King, and now long since forgotten, then weighed 
heavily in the scale fixvorable to the grant of the Statuto, 
and when, a few weeks later, a commission was appointed 
to frame an electoral law. Count de Cavour became one of 
its principal members. 

We may pass rapidly over the events of the next two 
years, important though they were, as foreign to our sub- 
ject, for Count de Cavour exercised no direct influence 
upon them. Nevertheless he speedily made himself re- 
marked by the singularly independent and original atti- 
tude he assumed in the first Sardinian chamber, where he 
sat as deputy for the college of Tiuin, which, save for one 
short interval, he continued to represent till his death, and 
took his place in the centre. 

47 



370 THE COURT OF SARDINIA. 

Oil the death of Count Santa Rosa, Minister of Com- 
merce, Massimo d'Azeglio, the then Premier, proposed to 
the King his nomination to the vacant post. " Take care," 
obsei'ved Victor Emmanuel, " if Cavour once enter the 
Cabinet, he will soon be master of 3-ou all." Never was 
prophecy more literally fulfilled. 

Had Piedmont been a great state, the acts of Count de 
Cavour, during the time he remained a member of the 
Azeglio Cabinet, would have sufficed to secure to him a 
lasting European reputation. From the moment he entered 
the government, intrusted with the departments of com- 
merce and agriculture, and of marine, to which the portr 
folio of finance was added early in 1851, he practically 
commenced the peculiar work of his life, — the organization 
of the conservative forces of his country, and their direc- 
tion to the achievement of the ends of revolutions; for the 
characteristic which, more than any other, sets him apart 
from all contemporary statesmen, is, that with aspirations 
no less ardent and entire than those of Mazzini himself, his 
chosen instruments were the upper and middle classes — in 
Italy, even more than elsewhere, imbued with the constitu- 
tional timidity of men who have a large stake to risk. 
The jjosition was a most difficult one. Piedmont was so 
microscopic a state, that her progress remained totally un- 
perceived save by those whom fortuitous circumstances led 
to take a special interest in the affiiirs of Italy; and even in 
the peninsula itself, few, if any, appreciated the skill which, in 
the treaties of commerce, foreshadowed the system of alliances 
to culminate in the Crimea; or when, in May, 1852, Count 
de Cavour broke with Azeglio and the majority of his col- 
leagues, on the express grounds that they were tampering 
Avith interests which admitted of no compromise, — even 
divined that the foundations of a great Italian monarchy 
were already laid. 

At the end of the session, Count de Cavour paid a fly- 
ing visit to England and France ; and it was on this occa- 



COUNT DE CAVOUR. 371 

sioii, we believe, that he first met, flice to flice, the man 
with whom his destiny was to ])e so intimately connected, 
Napoleon III., who at once received him with the utmost 
cordiality. Soon, however, he was called home by the ap- 
proaching opening of the Chambers, to see his calculations 
of the previous spring verified by the resignation of the 
Azeglio Cabinet, which, weakened by its fliilure to obtain 
a favorable concordat from Rome, did not feel equal to en- 
countering a fresh parliamentary campaign deprived of its 
best champion. Tiie King first smnmoned Cavour, but he 
having made it an absolute condition that every thought 
of further negotiation with the Papal court should be 
abandoned, various other combinations were essayed by 
Marcjuis Alfieri and Count Balbo ; and it was not until all 
had failed, that Cavour received carte hlanche, and, in the 
beginning of November, composed a government, in which 
he himself assumed the presidency of the council and the 
ministry of finance, to which, later, he added foreign affairs, 
one department never seeming enough f<jr his insatiable ac- 
tivity. Henceforth first or rather sole minister, — for his col- 
leagues were but jjawns to be moved or set aside accord- 
ing to the exigencies of his game, secretaries whom he 
changed without exciting even the passing curiosity of the 
public, so certain was it that he would stamp upon all the 
potent impress of his own genius, — he advanced toward his 
aim with longer and bolder strides ; and we, too, must now 
take a wider range, for from this time, Sai-dinia was 
wedded to the Cavourian policy, by it to stand or fall, 
and the biography of one man becomes the history of 
Italy. 

At first, however. Count de Cavour seemed disposed to 
devote himself to the completion of the internal reforms. 
He was preparing the dwarf Piedmont for a life and death 
struggle with the giant Austria, and he felt the necessit}' 
of providing armor of proof, and of carefully testing every 
plate of the cuirass ; so the internal administration, the 



372 THE COURT OF SARDINIA. 

code, the tarift^ finances, public works, and education, the 
material resources of tlie country, were all reformed and 
devel(jped in such a way as to bring them into harmony 
with one another and with the general design. Count de 
Cavour was now taking measures calculated to excite to 
the utmost the hostility of Austria, by strengthening the 
defences of Casale and Alessandria, and in proposing to 
transfer the naval arsenal from Genoa to La Spezia, an act 
which, though defensible on commercial grounds, was cer- 
tainly prompted by deep motives of policy. These three 
measures, especially the first and third, encountered un- 
usual opposition in the Chamber; and it was in the debate 
on the last, that allowing himself to be carried away by 
the heat of discussion, in answer to the reproach that he 
was risking the very existence of the navy by placing its 
arsenal within a few miles of a hostile frontier, Count de 
Cavour suddenly, and for one moment, raised the veil 
which still shrouded his dearest thoughts, by exclaiming: 
" Who assures the honorable deputy that La Spezia will 
not one day be rather in the centre than at the extreme 
point of our territory ? " He said no more, but this cry 
of his heart, backed by the more cogent reasons adduced 
by his intellect, satisfied the Chamber, and the project of 
law was voted. 
The poet sings, — 

" There is a tide in the affiiirs of men, 
Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune." 

And equally are there crises in the Ufe of nations, which, 
as they are improved or neglected, make or mar the des- 
tiny of generations. Such a moment was now approaching 
for Italy. Early in 1854, France and England concluded 
their ofteusive alliance against Russia ; and the courteous 
intimation of the event, usual in diplomatic intercourse, 
was followed up in December by a formal invitation to 
Sardinia to join in the league. It would be hard to prove, 
though we are inclined to believe, that Count de Cavour 



COUNT DE CAVOUR. 373 

provoked the invitiition ; but however that may be, he 
eagerly grasped the opportunity thus held out to him of 
at once rousing the army IVoui the depression caused by 
the crushing defeat of Novara, and of placing the third- 
rate state he governed on a line with the great powers, 
arid a treaty was speedily concluded, followed by a military 
and financial convention, in which, by scornfully rejecting 
any advantage to be obtained at the sacrifice of indepen- 
dence, and above all, the tempting prospect of a subsidy. 
Piedmont assumed a footing of equality with her colossal 
allies. 

The reader may still remember the cry of astonishment, 
almost of derision, that rang through Europe at the news. 
Such audacity seemed incredible : it was David returned to 
life, again to defy Goliath ; and nowhere was surprise and 
even dismay stronger than in Piedmont itself The army, 
indeed, rejoiced at the prospect opened to it ; but the poli- 
ticians were loud and almost unanimous in their remon- 
strances. 

The very idea of squandering the resources of the coun- 
try for interests that only indirectly concerned her, in fiice 
of a yearly deficit, when every penny was required for ob- 
jects of vital importance, and of shedding Italian blood in 
a foreign and distant quarrel, when the army might any 
day be called upon to defend its own homesteads, was rep- 
resented as insanity, while running the risk that the ban- 
ner of Piedmont miyht one dav find itself floatino; beside 
that of Austria, was stigmatized as treason to the memory 
of Charles Albert ; the aliandonment of every dearest aim, 
and the ruin of Piedmont and of liberty was confidently 
prognosticated if the Chamber consented to the treaty ; but 
all this torrent of opposition was powerless to make Camilio 
de Cavour swerve from his conviction that, to cite his own 
words, " The independence of Italy must be conquered in 
the Crimea." Two noble soldiers alone fully shared his 
views and his hopes, their big hearts bounding at the con- 



374 THE COURT OF SARDINIA. 

ceptiou of his vast intellect ; and well was it for Italy that 
those hearts beat in the l^reasts of the King and of the 
dying Duke of Genoa. Both were so earnest in their ap- 
^■)roval, that tliQ latter claimed for himself the chief com- 
mand of the expedition, hoping thus to forestall his fatal 
malady by dying, as he lived, for Italy ; and when death 
cut short that design, Victor Emmanuel, broken in spirit 
)jy the successive loss of wife, mother, and brother, even 
proposed to abdicate in flivor of the Prince of Piedmont, 
and go to the Crimea as his general. Strong in such sup- 
port, Cavour declared he would change every one of his 
colleagues and dissolve parliament, rather than give up one 
iota of his plan. Then, and then only, after a long and 
spirited debate, in the course of which the great statesman 
defended himself in one of the finest speeches ever heard 
from his lijjs, the Chamber yielded, though with fear and 
gloomy forebodings, and ratified the treaty by a small ma- 
jority, in the spirit of self-sacrificing loyalty which is so 
peculiarly characteristic of the Piedmontese. 

The issue is well known ; and within a few short months 
the foremost opponents of the treaty were fiiin to rejoice 
at their own defeat, while the members of the majority 
cony-ratulated themselves on the unbendino; allegiance to 
their sovereign and his representative which had stood 
them in lieu of conviction. 

The battle of Traktir (sixteenth of August, 1855) re- 
stored the reputation of the Sardinian army and its gen- 
erals, and though untoward circumstances prevented the 
brigade under Cialdini from taking its destined part in the 
storming of MalakoiF, condemning it to remain all day in 
the trenches under the galling fire of the fortress, enough 
had been done to prove that the Italian tricolor might 
worthily wave by that of France ; and Delia Marmora was 
admitted to the councils of war on equal terms with the 
leaders of the mightier hosts. When the subalpine parlia- 
ment met at the end of autumn, many doubts and preju- 



COUNT DE CAVOUR. 375 

dices had alreai-ly been dispelled, and supplies were voted 
with unusual readiness. But now it was for the diplomat- 
ists of Piedmont to continue in the cabinet the work that 
her generals had so well begv;n in the field. Negotiations 
opened during the winter. Count de Cavour, having al- 
ready secured all the advantages he had promised himself 
from war, was now foremost in wishing for peace ; and we 
believe the arguments he m-ged, while accompanying his 
sovereisn on a visit to the courts of Windsor and the 
Tuileries, to have been by no means uninfluential in pro- 
moting the congress of the following year. At all events, 
it was at this time that Napoleon III. first inquired of him, 
" What can be done for Italy ? " a question which called 
forth in reply the celebrated memorandum known as that 
of the twenty-seventh March, 1856. 

When the conferences were first appointed, it had been 
intended to send Massimo d'Azeglio to Paris as the Sardin- 
ian plenipotentiary ; but the difficulty of giving him pre- 
cise instructions was so great, that he speedily withdrew 
his acceptance of the office, and Count de Cavour, seeing 
no other worthy to be intrusted with a mission at once so 
delicate and important, resolved to take it upon himself. 
As the representative of a belligerent power, he was able 
to assume a tone most provoking to Austria, and in spite 
of her protests, took an active part in every discussion, 
signing the final treaty on equal terms with the other 
plenipotentiaries. Returned to Turin, Count de Cavour, on 
the sixth of May, rendered an account of his mission, and 
after reading his note of the sixteenth of April, was en- 
abled, in proud consciousness of his triumph, to announce 
to the deputies, and through them to the whole country, 
that the Italian question was now fairly launched on the 
sea of diplomacy, England and France, by recording the 
opinion that its present state must be remedied in the 
general interest of Europe, having virtually pledged them- 
selves to seek its solution, and that, far from the relations 



376 THE COURT OF SARDINIA. 

of Austria and Piedmont having been drawn closer l)y the 
almost daily meetings of their envoys at the same comicil- 
board, the gulf separating the political systems of the two 
states had never been moi'e clearly defined than since the 
Imperial ambassadors were forced to sit in the position of 
culprits at the bar, and had not even dared to put forward 
a defence, when the wrongs and woes of Italy were de- 
nounced before the judgment-seat of Europe and of public 
opinion. 

A great step had evidently been made. All Italy rang 
with acclamations : addresses of congratulation, medals of 
honor, poured from all sides on " him who defended her 
with raised vizor." The noblest of the Italian exiles, Manin, 
abdicated his rejjublican doctrines, declaring that Italy must 
be one, with Victor Emmanuel as her King, and made him- 
self the chief promoter of a scheme for arming the new 
fortifications of Alessandria by national subscription, thus 
recognizing them as works of general utility, and Piedmont 
as the bulwark of the peninsula. The idea became so 
popular that the original number of one hmidred guns was 
considerably increased, and they may now be seen on the 
AvaUs of the fortress of the old Lombard League, inscribed 
with the names of the cities or provinces that offered 
them ; and when the Sardinian regiments returned from 
the Crimea, their entry into Turin was everywhere cele- 
brated as a national festivity. A vulgar observer would 
have thought that Cavour might now have rubbed his 
hands, (his constant gesture when jjleased,) congratulating 
himself in unalloyed delight on his progress towai'd I'ealiz- 
ing the dream of his youth ; but he was one whom no 
triumph could dazzle, and while a nation applauded, never 
had the obstacles to final success seemed to him more 
numerous or more formidable. Yet he shrank not from 
his purpose, and though he was once observed walking up 
and down his cabinet, in an hour of vexation, gloomily 
communing with his own heart as to whether it would not 



COUNT DE CAVOUR. 377 

be wise in liiiii, decorated with the highest honors his 
sovereign could bestow, and possessed of all the gifts of 
fortune, to retire from the game rather than again set 
upon the die the European reputation for statesmanship he 
had just conquered, the fit of despondency soon passed 
away, and, striking his hand upon the taljle, he vehe- 
mently exclaimed, "But no; at all hazards Italy must be 
made, shall be made, and made by mo ! " This was in- 
deed his one and true ambition ; for this he sought power, 
not as an object, but as a means; and standing alone as 
he did in the grandeur of his own soul, without wife or 
child to smile upon his solitary hearth, Italy was as 
mother, and mistress, and daughter are to other and lesser 
men. 

As compared with the years that succeeded, 1857 and 
1858 seem tame and barren of events ; but if we examine 
them more closely, we shall see that, as a ship of war 
does not sail forth upon the open sea without long prepar- 
ation and toil in the dock-yards, so those years w-ere the 
necessary forerunners of the more exciting ones to follow, 
and that without the previous coordination of parts, the 
great Italian drama could never have been played. The 
war of notes and protocols must precede that of shells and 
bullets, while the Italian popidations must be disciplined to 
act unanimously, and take advantage of any opportunity 
that might present itself Cavour steadily pvu'sued both 
objects. In January, 1857, the Emperor Francis Joseph 
visited Milan, Init no envoy of ^'ictor Emmanuel compli- 
mented him on his arrival ; and when, furious at the cold- 
ness of the Lombards, he ordered his diplomatic agents 
and paid j^i'ess violently to denounce Piedmont, as if her 
free government and journals were the sole causes, insist- 
ing on the modification of the one and the suppression of 
the other, the dignified language of the notes and articles 
that appeared at Turin, ujjholding the independence of the 
state, and defending the liberties granted by the statute, 

48 



378 THE COURT OF SARDINIA. 

made this vituperation recoil upon the heads of its authors; 
and all Europe applauded when diplomatic intercourse, 
tamely carried on l)y cJiarges d'affaires for the last foiu' 
years, was entirely l^roken off The enthusiasm and affec- 
tion of Italy for the King and minister of Sardinia daily 
increased ; and, to train these feelings into engines of prac- 
tical applicability, the "National Society" now formed itself 
at Turin, with the tacit consent of the government. This 
association, organized, though for a jDolitical pur230se, after 
the model of the Manchester Corn-Law League, comprised 
all sections of Liberals, and, by its sub-committees, soon 
spread its ramifications through every city and village of 
Northern and Central Italy. 

The crisis was gradually drifting nearer. Count de Ca- 
vour was well aware that open w-ar with Austria must 
break out sooner or later. He also knew that the mate- 
rial resources of Piedmont could not indefinitely resist the 
strain put upon them for so many years, and that her 
army of sixty thousand men, however excellent, even 
though reinforced by the volunteers of all Ital}', could not 
adequately encounter the imperial forces ; and he anxiously 
looked around him for allies. He was too well acquaiuted 
with England, the country of his predilections, to hope 
active aid from her ; France was his only resource. When 
and how negotiations were opened and carried on, whether 
the first overtures came from Paris or Turin, are questions 
which will probably not be fully answered until every indi- 
vidual interested in them shall sleep in the grave, and 
which we will not even attempt to solve. This much we 
know. In September, 1858, Count de Cavour visited Na- 
poleon III. at the baths of Plombieres, and, after long and 
frequent conferences, succeeded in convincing him that the 
state of Italy had in no respect improved during the two 
years that had elapsed since the Congress of Paris, and 
that there was no hope of amelioration arising from any 
diplomatic remonstrances that could be addressed to Aus- 



COUNT DE CAVOUR. 379 

tria, or to the smaller sovereigns so long as they could 
count upon her cooj^eration in forcibly sui^j^ressing the dis- 
content of their subjects. These points once proved to his 
satisfaction, the Emperor clearly saw that the supremacy 
of Austria over the whole peninsula, not contemplated even 
by the treaties of 1815, must one day become flital to the 
European balance of power ; and we believe it to liave 
been agreed, that France should aid Sardinia in expelling 
Austria from Lombardy and Venetia, and annexing those 
provinces, receiving Savoy and Nice in return. The mar- 
riage of Prince Napoleon was also discussed ; and the flxte 
of the secondary Italian princes was left to be decided by 
events. 

Had Austria strictly confined herself to the limits as- 
signed by the final settlement of Vienna, her position 
would have been diplomatically unassailable, since her Ital- 
ian 231'ovmces were secured to her by the same title-deed 
which gave Genoa to Piedmont ; fortunately, however, for 
the designs of Count de Cavour, her tenure was incompati- 
ble with good government in any part of the peninsula, 
and between treaties, family alliances, and armed occupa- 
tions, she had for forty-four years maintained a supremacy 
contrary to the public law of Europe ; and having obtained 
a guarantee against brute force, the Sardinian premier was 
not slow to take advantage of this flaw in her case. On 
either side the Alps the war of words began toward the 
close of 1858 ; and while the singular address of the Em- 
peror Napoleon to the Austrian ambassador on the first of 
January intimated to the world in general the dissension 
which had arisen Ijetween the two empires, and the war- 
like speech of Victor Emmanuel, ten days later, roused the 
enthusiasm and hopes of the Italians, — demonstrations the 
homogeneity of which Avas soon made manifest by the 
hastily concluded matrimonial alliance between the reign- 
ing houses of France .and Piedmont, — Austria found no bef>- 
ter argument than the strengthening of her garrisons, the 



380 THE COURT OF SARDINIA. 

massing of hex' troops on the frontier, and the taking up 
of a hxrge loan, — evident preparations for war, which Count 
de Cavour lost no time in putting in the strongest light 
both in his circulars to the diplomatic agents abroad, and 
in his speeches to the parliament at home. 

Count de Cavour was too certain of the justice of his 
cause not to found his chief hopes of success on the ver- 
dict of public opinion ; and when the English government, 
alarmed at the turn events were taking, called upon him 
to state the grievances of Italy, he drew up his memoran- 
dum of the first of March, 1859, an act of accusation 
against Austria and her satellites no less striking and con- 
clusive than the one aimed at the Papal Court three years 
jn-eviously. Compared with such a document, the com- 
plaints of the Austrian Cabinet seemed those of the wolf 
against the lamb in the old fable ; yet we may fairly ad- 
mit that the alann of the huge empire was far from being 
groundless, for despotism is only secure so long as its 
power is unquestioned. The smallest concession is the 
necessary forerunner of a fall, and the practical working 
of a constitution in any part of Italy was the logical con- 
demnation of the imperial system ; so that the mere al- 
lowing it to exist was, in fact, a tacit acknowledgment 
of impotency, the consequences of which could only be 
avoided by successful war. 

This was the universal conviction on either bank of the 
Ticino and the Po; and while Austiia poured down her fron- 
tier battalions, never moved save in case of imminent hostili- 
ties, the committees of the National Society, secretly at work 
in every town, assisted the youth of all the Italian provinces 
in their escaj^e to join the royal army. It was a strange 
sight to behold the noblest and wealthiest rushing to enlist 
in the ranks ; and Count de Cavour, as he received the 
young volunteers, hailed their arrival as the best proof of 
the apj^roaching triumph of his ideas, for he well knew 
how indissoluble is the bond between those who have 



COUNT DE CAVOUR. 381 

fought side by side. Piedmont was now virtually Italy, 
and this gave the Italians and their leader courage and 
patience to look calmly on all the diplomatic efforts of 
England and Russia to avert war. They knew their hour 
was at hand, and in his certainty that it must strike. 
Count de Cavour showed himself willing to enter into ne- 
gotiations, to accept a congress, even to disarm, provided 
that condition were made common to both parties ; in 
short, to make every concession compatible with the inde- 
pendence of his native country which the neutral powers 
could reasonably demand. 

Nor was he deceived in his lielief that Austria Avould 
deem this moderation more fatal to her interests than all 
the risks of war. On the twenty-third of April, Baron 
Kellersberg appeared at Turin with the Austrian ultima- 
tum, which was of course peremptorily rejected. All doubt 
being now at an end, the Sardinian amiy was concentrated 
on the second line of defence of Casale, Valenza, and Ales- 
sandria, so providently prepared for it. Victor Emmanuel, 
in a spirited proclamation, called the Italians to arms ; the 
Sardinian Chambers, with a trust never before accorded 
either to king or minister, suspended the constitution dur- 
ing; the continuance of hostilities, that no formal obstacle 
might delay the taking of any measure dictated by the 
urgency of the case ; and Count de Cavour, — who though 
the greatest of revolutionists, not only in spirit but in fact, 
never admitted violent change save as a last resource 
when every other had been exhausted, — called upon the 
soi disant independent princes of Central Italy to make their 
election between a national policy, which might have saved 
their thrones, and open adherence to Austria, a summons 
to which they successively answered, — the Dukes of Tiis- 
cany and Modena by repairing to the Imperial camp, the 
Duchess of Parma by a more politic retreat into Switz- 
erland. 

Few passages in modern history are better known than 



382 THE COURT OF SARDINIA. 

the Italian campaign of 1859. The Austrian invasion, the 
stoical patriotism of the Piedmontese peasantry, the arrival 
of the French, the marches and battles which led to the 
rapid liberation of Lombardy, have all been described over 
and over again ; be it rather om- task to tell what was the 
life of Count de Cavour during those bvxsy ten weeks. 
Charged with the four ministries of war, marine, foreign 
affairs, and the interior, in addition to the presidency of 
the council, he seemed to multiply himself to accomplish 
all the duties thus heaped upon him. For years it had 
been his habit to rise at five, or even four, in the morn- 
ing, and only allowing himself the occasional refreshment 
of a cigar, or a single cup of black coffee, to work unin- 
terruptedly till six, the hour of his one daily meal, devot- 
ing the evening to rest, in society ; but dinner was now 
often delayed till nine and ten o'clock, or else he returned 
to labor till past midnight. By this incessant toil, only 
diversified by flying visits to the camp, to confer with his 
own sovereign or the French Emperor, he contrived to dis- 
charge every task so efficiently that those brought in con- 
tact with him in each capacity almost refused to believe 
he had any other department to preside over. All the 
wants of the army seemed known to him, and were in- 
stantly provided for ; he superintended the equipment of 
the ships destined to join the French fleet in the Adriatic ; 
as Minister of Foreign Affairs he kept the Sardinian en- 
voys abroad in a position to explain every step in his 
game to the courts to which they were accredited, and on 
the death of Ferdinand II. despatched an extraordinary 
ambassador to Naples, to endeavor to induce the young 
King, the son of a princess of Savoy, to embrace a con- 
stitutional system and the Piedmontese alliance ; while in 
the Home Department he extended the benefits of the 
statute to Lombardy and the Duchies, which, as having 
voted their union with Sardinia in 1848, were provisionally 
incorporated with the monarchy, while, through the royal 



COUNT DE CAVOUR. 383 

commissioners sent to facilitate their participation in the 
war, he less directly inOuenced the government of Tuscany 
and Romagna. 

Such activity would seem incredible, were it not a mat- 
ter of contemporary history ; and even thus, it may be a 
subject of medical doubt how long the health and faculties 
of any human being could have withstood such a strain. 
Yet harder still to bear than even this herculean labor 
was the shock that awaited Count de Cavour, when, in 
compliance with a telegraphic summons, he hastened to 
head-quarters at Desenzano, and learned the tidings of the 
Convention of A'illafranca. What he then endured no 
tongue can tell, for he himself never fully described his 
feelings, though they might be guessed from the expres- 
sion of agony which would cross his expressive countenance 
at any allusion to the hour in which his dearest schemes 
seemed broken in the midst. But whatever his grief, 
his resolution was promptly taken ; he could not set his 
hand to any treaty consecrating the servitude of the Vene- 
tians, and the presence of Austria in Italy ; and as it 
woidd have been madness for Piedmont to attempt to 
carry on the war single-handed, he threw up all his offices, 
in spite of the passionate entreaties and reproaches of Vic- 
tor Emmanuel, — entreaties and reproaches hard to resist, 
for his sovereign was also his friend ; but his sense of right 
was stronger even than affection, and he only consented 
to hold the seals till his successors should be appointed. 

The resignation of Cavour left the iate of the peninsula 
dependent on the firmness of the central Italians ; but 
would populations so long oppressed prove equal to en- 
countering such a crisis, deprived of their trusted leader ? 
The first consolation that reached the fallen statesman was 
a letter from Farini, then Governor of Modena, proposing 
resistance, and the creation of a dictatorship for that 
province in his own person. Count de Cavour promptly 
replied by telegraph : " The minister is dead — the friend 



384 THE COURT OF SARDINIA. 

approves and encourages you." Next came the news that 
Baron Ricasoli, who, on the departure of the Sardinian 
commissioner, had assumed the jJi'esidency of the Tuscan 
provisional government, was resolute to oj^pose the return 
of the Grand Duke, and had sununoned an elective as- 
sembly to decide on the propriety of union with Pied- 
mont ; and henceforth sure that his principle was right, 
and reposing as it did on the basis of eternal truth, had 
imbued the minds, not only of the thinking men, but of 
the masses in Italy, and thus founded, might defy the 
caprices even of so powerful a potentate as Napoleon III., 
Count de Cavour retired to his country-seat of Leri, near 
Vercelli, there to await the day of his return to office. 

At that villa he chiefly resided for the next six months, 
and to one of a less nervous and irritable temjDerament, 
that repose from official toil might have been of service ; 
but the same man, who, when minister, would escape to 
Leri for a few hours, there to enjoy himself with all the 
zest of a school-boy, discussing with his steward the state of 
his herds and rice-grounds, or providing for the well-being 
of his jieasantry, seemingly oblivious that politics even ex- 
isted, now found no rest amid his once loved rural pur- 
suits, fretted himself almost into fever at his inability to 
do more than advise where he longed to act, and while 
the populations were daily forwarding his views by their 
wonderful intelligence and abnegation, could ill l>rook to 
see that progress jeopardized by the moral cowardice and 
impolicy of the Piedmontese ministry, composed of men he 
himself had raised into re2)utation, who now implored his 
counsel in each difficulty, to desj)ise it the moment the 
crisis was past, and by their abuse of the full powers 
voted by the Pai'liament in his own favor, tampered with 
that inviolable sanctity of law, respect for which was with 
him almost a sujoerstition. 

So false a situation could not endure longer than the 
circumstances which had created it. In stormy weather 



COUNT DE CAVOUR. 385 

the mofst experienced mariner holds the hehn ; and scarcely 
had the jieace of Zurich rendered his resumption of power 
possible, than the Italians became eager to see it restored 
to Count de Cavour. In January, 1860, the Rattazzi gov- 
ernment fell under the weight of its own errors, and the 
desire of the nation was instantly fulfilled. Few paused to 
inquire who formed the Cal^inet, it was enough that the 
trusted minister presided over it; and all looked forward to 
great events. The first care of Count de Cavour was to 
retin-n to a legal position by dissolving the old and con- 
voking a new parliament, to include the representatives of 
Lomljardy ; his next, to provide for the prompt annexation 
of Tuscany and the Emilia. Himself convinced that hesitar 
tions of the late ministry as to the votes of the assembUes 
rendered necessary a fresh manifestation on the part of 
those provinces, and jirivately -warned that France would 
recognize no decision but that of universal suffrage, he 
provoked a secret conference with Baron Eicasoli and Sig- 
nor Farini, at which was decided that appeal to the jaeople, 
the brilliant result of which is so well known. 

It was a triumphant day for Comit de Cavour when he 
could advise his sovereign to accept those votes, and sum- 
mon the deputies of half Italy to meet in a single parlia- 
ment ; but, coincident with the victory, storms and clouds 
arose on other points of the horizon. We have already 
stated that the transfer of Savoy and Nice to France was 
to have been the price of the total expulsion of Austria ; 
at Villafranca the claim was natiu'ally abandoned, but it 
was revived on the fusion of Northern and Central Italy. 
Did Count de Cavour umnixedly regret the pressure to 
Avhich he could Ijut yield ? We are not prepared to assert 
it, for though no minister can ever willingly sign a treaty 
of cession, — and in this case especially, he knew he must 
overcome the natural repugnance and grief of the King, 
and a strenuous parliamentary opposition, — he was too pro- 
found and subtle a statesman not to be aware that he was 

49 



386 THE COURT OF SARDINIA. 

fortunate in being able to discharge the debt of material 
obligation at so cheap a rate, and not to foresee that by 
claiming her own disjoined provinces at the hands of Italy, 
and annexing them in virtue of universal suftrage, France 
implicitly acknowledged the principle of Italian unity, and 
precluded herself from objecting to any fusion hencefor- 
ward carried out b}' the same means. We believe him to 
have been far more disturbed by the rising at Palermo, 
brought on by accident, against his most earnest wishes, 
since he thereby lost the direct control of events in the 
soutliern provinces, and the chances of insurrection wei-e 
substituted for that coordination of well-organized forces to 
which he loved to owe the victory of his ideas. 

The formation of his army under General de Lamori- 
ciere had made the Pope think himself able to dispense 
with a French garrison at Rome; and Count de Cavour 
was aware not only that the latter was about to be with- 
drawn, and that their departure would be followed by a 
joint attack on Romagna by the Papal and Neapolitan 
forces, but he also knew the latter to be so deeply imbued 
with Italianism, that the very chiefs could not be counted 
upon to oppose the Piedmontese soldiers, whose victory 
and advance southward would raise the populations, sweep- 
ing away the Bourl^on despotism as mists disperse before 
the morning sun. That this plan was feasible we cannot 
doubt after the autumn campaign in the Marches ; but the 
outbreak of the Sicilians, and the expedition of Garibaldi, 
in consequence of which the French remained at Rome, 
foi'ced Count de Cavour to renounce all thoughts of its 
execution. He could only bide his time, certain that the 
advent of anarchy must sooner or later exhaust the forces 
of tumultuous revolution, and restore the control of events 
to his own hand. But his course was nearly run, and we 
turn to his last appearances on the parhamentary stage of 
his earliest public triumphs. 

The elections had taken place on the twenty-seventh of 



COUNT DE CAVOUR. 387 

January, 1861, everywhere proving singularly favorable to 
government, and the parliament was formally opened on 
the eighteenth of February ; but, owing to the delay neces- 
sary for the verification of powers, business did not begin 
till the middle of March. The first bill presented was one 
constituting the new monarchy, which passed the represen- 
tative chamber unanimously, the senate with Init a single 
dissentient vote, given at the dictate of religious bigotry; 
and thus was the youthful dream of Cavour fulfilled after 
the lapse of twenty-nine years. He was first minister of 
the kingdom of Italy, and to himself was the great result 
mainly due. The sovereign had assumed his new title, the 
State was proclaimed ; but it was yet incomplete, for Rome 
the capital, and Venice the bulwark, were unrepresented in 
the Italian Parliament, and on the former and most vital 
of these questions Count de Cavour hastened to explain 
his views. In answer to interrogations he had himself in- 
stigated, he expounded at length his favorite theory of a 
free Church in a free State. Considering Rome to be the 
necessary metropolis of Italy, he desired to offer the Pontiff, 
in exchange for his precarious temporal power, sovereign 
honors, and the renunciation by the State of all right of 
interference in spiritual affairs, with the hope that such 
ample terms, backed by the guarantee of the Italian gov- 
ernment for the safety and respect due to the supreme 
head of the Church, would induce the concurrence of the 
Catholic Powers, and persuade France especially to with- 
draw her garrison, concluding in favor of an order of the 
day to the same effect, which was voted by an immense 
majority. These explanations were renewed in the upper 
Chamber a fortnight later; for Count de Cavour held the 
thorough ventilation of a question to be the essential pre- 
liminary to its solution. 

The discussion of the eighteenth of April must long re- 
main memorable in the parliamentary annals of Italy. In 
reply to the questions of Baron Ricasoli, the minister of 



388 THE COURT OF SARDINIA. 

war made a long ytatement of the forces of the country, 
and explained the position assigned to the volunteers by 
the royal decrees on their organization ; after which Gari- 
Ijaldi, who had taken his seat that same day, started up, 
and reading from a paper, (previously prepared, alas ! for 
had the cruel words been spoken in the heat of debate, not 
written, the sting had been less deep,) accused Cavour of 
being tlie enemy of Italy, the would-be fosterer of civil 
war. The Chamber was indignant, his own lieutenants 
shocked, and the most fiery of them, General Bixio, earnest 
for conciliation, implored the accuser to retract, the accused 
to pardon, the mijust taunt ; nor was Count de Cavoiu", 
though wounded to the quick, slow to accei:)t the proffered 
mediation, and for the weal of Italy he offered not merely 
forgiveness but oblivion, and joint labor in the cause both 
equally loved, and holding out his hand, he called upon 
Garibaldi to come and grasp it as that of a patriot, who, 
if trained in a diflerent school, was no less ardent than 
hunself Had Garibaldi only done so, what evil might 
have been averted ! But irresolute, and dependent on the 
ojjinion of those immediately about him, he half rose to 
comply, then yielding to the whispered remonstrance of 
Zuppetta, who was next him, again sat down. Cavour sank 
back, struggling with fearful and visible agony ; insulted as 
knight, as gentleman, as patriot, his nature was one to feel 
to the veiy core such a lilow, coming from such a quarter ; 
yet Italy was so dear to him, that for her sake he mas- 
tered his passion, retained his wonted urbanity throughout 
the debate, and when the large majority in favor of gov- 
ernment, and the adherence of his military lieutenants to 
its proposals, had persuaded Garibaldi of the necessity of 
reconciliation, and he sought it through the intervention 
of his sovereign, Cavour, too high-souled for rancor, cheer- 
fully assented. But fronr that hour he was not the same. 
The poisoned shaft had reached his heart, the wound 
closed outwardly, but did not heal, and affection noted 



COUNT DE CAVOUR. 389 

with sinister prevision, tliat his once bright eye was now 
dim. and that while he acknowledged fatigue, he com- 
plained of his inability to rest. As if actuated by a fore- 
boding wish to give utterance to his thoughts on every 
subject nearest to his heart, he repeatedly addressed the 
Chamber, with even more than his wonted power and ear- 
nestness, on the fundamental principles of free trade, (his 
last great speech,) Venice, Rome, and the interests of the 
exiles from those cities ; bequeathing his woi'ds, as it were, 
a legacy to his successors and his country. 

The hour was at hand, the knell was about to ring. 
The morning of Wednesday, the twenty-nmth of May, was 
spent as usual, amid the cares of oflice. In the afternoon 
Covmt de Cavour appeared in the Chamber, sustaining his 
part in the debate with all his wonted animation,, replying 
to every objector in his usual lively, half-jesting, conversa- 
tional tone ; but in the evening he was suddenly seized 
with a fit of apoplexy. It was not the first, and this 
seemed to yield, like its predecessors, after two bleedings, 
so much so that on the thirty-first, in spite of all entreaty, 
he insisted on transacting business with his colleagues, and 
"ivino- his usual audiences ; the result was an excitement 
which brouofht on a fresh attack, with new and more dan- 
gerous symptoms, confiicting with each other, and indica- 
tive of various maladies, for all of which the pharmacy of 
Turin knew but one remedy — the lancet. Whether greater 
prudence on the part of the sufferer, or more skilled phy- 
sicians, would have presei'ved so precious a life, can be 
only a mutter of conjecture ; but we may state our own 
belief that though the method of treatment was probably 
the very worst that could have been selected, no other 
would have been more successful. Years of toil and in- 
tense anxiety had strained to the utmost nerves of the 
most exquisite sensibility ; while a most unhealthy mode of 
life, long fasts, alternated with abundant meals, and scarcely 
any physical exercise, had gradually undermined health, and 



390 THE COURT OF SARDINIA. 

left both body and mind without power of reaction from 
any sudden or violent blow. That blow was given by the 
hand of Garibaldi, and the eflbrt to conceal its immediate 
effect was probaljly more fatal than even the shock itself, 
so that those who knew him best considered him doomed 
from the hour of the second attack, and in the alternate 
phases of his malady only saw the last struggles of an 
exhausted nature. The multitude was naturally less clear- 
sighted, and the second of June, the day set apart in 
honor of Italian unity, was celebrated with all the or- 
dained pomp, as Cavour had bidden. Yet amidst their 
rejoicings the people did not forget their Papa Camiho ; 
and as days went by, and the well-known face and figure 
did not reappear under the porticos, anxiety grew deep, 
and vast crowds day and niglit Ijlocked up all the streets 
leading to his palace, standing for hours in their silent, 
serried ranks, to learn the contents of the bulletins con- 
stantly issued. Within lay the sick man, on his bed of 
death, grandly, calmly awaiting the fate he knew to be 
impending. In his occasional hours of delirium he spoke 
of his country, of her generals and statesmen, of her hopes 
and her difficulties, for, dying as a shepherd in defence of 
his flock, his thoughts were ever with his people, but not 
one word of rancor or enmity fell from his lip.s, for there 
was no hatred in his heart. When he was lucid, he con- 
versed gayly, and even jested with the relatives and friends 
around him, discoursing of agriculture, the crops, silkworms, 
but above all of Italy, and as the end drew nigh, that 
theme more exclusively occupied his mind. On the morn- 
ing of the fifth, he sent for his parish priest. Father Gia- 
como, of the Franciscan order of monks, for years his 
friend, and one of the dispensers of his numerous charities 
to the poor of Turin, confessed, and toward night received 
the sacraments. His will was already signed, and having 
thus fulfdled his duties toward God and man, he dedicated 
his last hours on earth to the thought of his country. 



COUNT DE CAVOUR. 391 

Late in the evening he was visited by his sovereign, who 
aflectionately embraced and took leave of him, — a visit 
which deeply touched the dying minister. To the last his 
commanding intellect remained bright and clear; he looked 
steadily forward through the mists which to inferior minds 
yet seemed to hang over the future of Italy, and though 
not blind to her dangers, expressed his unshakable faith in 
her future and success. "Non temete, I'ltalia e fatta," (fear 
not, Italy is made,) he said to his colleague, Minghetti, but 
an hour before the end ; and his last faint words were, 
'• Tutto e salvo," (all is safe,) and with these yet upon his 
lips, the glorious spirit passed away in the early dawn of 
Thursday, the sixth of June, 1861, leaving those who had 
the privilege of watching that last vigil, bewildered in the 
excess of their mingled admiration and grief 

Who shall describe the wail of all Italy at this great 
loss ? The shops and theatres were everywhere closed ; in 
every church arose the solemn chant for the dead ; and the 
population, all classes, high and low, mingled together, and 
alike clad in the deepest mourning, crowded to the cele- 
bration of the sacred rite. Never did Turin, nor perhaps 
any other city, present a spectacle like that on the day of 
the funeral. After lying in state in the great hall of the 
Cavour palace, where it received the last homage of the 
constituted bodies, and indeed of the whole peojile, who 
crowded to gaze for the last time on those beloved feat- 
ures, the corpse was borne on a royal car, which had 
served at the obsequies of Charles Albert, through the 
principal streets, to the church of Santa Maria degli An- 
gioli, where mass was to be celebrated, attended by both 
Chambers, the Knights of the Annunciata, the judges, the 
ecclesiastical, municipal, and commercial coi'porations. The 
whole garrison was under arms, the cannon thundered from 
the heights, no pomp that majesty itself might claim was 
wanting, nor could the pouring and incessant rain deter 
noble, citizen, or humble artisan, from walking bareheaded 



392 THE COURT OF SARDINIA. 

in the train; while the women, with no better protection 
than their mourning veils, stood for hours on the balconies 
to catch one glimpse of the procession as it passed. Turin, 
his native city, and Florence, the Pantheon of Italy, vied 
for the honor of enshrining the dead, to whom the Kino; 
offered a resting-place in the royal sepulchre of Superga, 
that his own bones might one day be laid beside those of 
his great minister; but all rivalry gave way l^efore the 
simple reply of the Marquis de Cavour, to whom these 
proflers were made, that years before his lost brother had 
expressed a wish to be buried in the family vault at San- 
tena, near a beloved nephew who had fallen at the battle 
of Custoza. To that wish all yielded : Cavour was laid in 
the spot he himself had selected ; and in the little chaj^el 
of Santeua, a simple stone, inscribed but with a name and 
a date, points out to the pilgrim of genius the last home 
of him who "made Italy." 

Thus lived, thus died, Camillo Benso de Cavour. 

The portrait of the minister is .engraved for all time on 
the tal>lets of history ; ))ut the memory of the man, though 
it holds a dearer place in the minds of those who knew 
him, would pass away with them ; and, as if to retain its 
evanescent image, many a p.ige has already been penned 
to record personal peculiarities, or characteristic anecdotes. 
Yet who shall paint worthily the easy and brilhant conver- 
sation, the gay, genial laugh, the charm of manner, which 
seemed so thoroughly to belong to the world of idleness, 
that only some chance remark, no one inferior could have 
uttered, reminded the auditor that he who spoke was 
Count de Cavour. His memory was prodigious ; he never 
forgot a fact or a date, a name or a face, though seen but 
once, and after the lapse of years; and to his friends his 
heart was ever true, though the necessities of his political 
position at times seemed to sever him from them. 

Kindly and tolerant, good no less than great. Count de 
Cavour passed away in charity with aU men, after a life 



COUNT DE CAVOUR. 393 

spent in striving to promote their weal. Dying in the 
prime of life, but worn out in their service, the mom-n- 
ing of his countr_)Tnen over him was j^assionate, and all 
but vmanimous. 

Either Chamber decreed an image of the departed to 
be placed in the hall of its assembly, to keep alive his 
memory among them ; and his speeches were ordered to be 
collected and printed at the expense of the State. Every 
great town determined to raise a monument to him ; Santa 
Croce, at Florence, the squares of Turin, Milan, Genoa, 
Naples, and many others of inferior note, will be adorned 
with his statue, while his picture will be seen in many a 
public hall. But whatever the skill of the limner, or the 
art of the sculptor, not even in the Campidoglio itself, can 
a monument to Camillo Benso, Count de Cavour, be erected 
so grand and noble as that aflfbrded him by his own great 
work — the unity of Italy herself 



60 



THE COURT OF AUSTRIA. 



An ancient castle of Switzerland, long since in ruins, has 
given its name to the Imperial House of Austria. The old 
castle of Hapsburg was buOt in the eleventh century. The 
first Count of Hapsburg was Werner II., who was a de- 
scendant of Ethico I., a Duke of Alemannia in the seventh 
century. The descendants of Count Werner augmented the 
possessions of their house, until their acquisitions were 
divided by the brothers Albert IV. and Rudolph III., in 
1233. The line of Albert IV. became flourishing through 
his son Rudolph, who, in 1273, was elected Emperor of 
Germany, and who afterwards gave Austria, Styria, etc., to 
his son Albert. From that period until now, the House of 
Hapsburg has occupied the Imperial throne of Austria. 
The Court of Austria received a considerable accession of 
power and grandeur in 1477. It was on the sixteenth of 
August, 1477, the ancient city of Ghent presented an un- 
usually gay appearance. Its streets were thronged with 
grave burghers and bold weavers in their holiday apparel ; 
the quaint old houses were hung with variegated drapery, 
and festooned with the foirest flowers ; while the windows 
were filled with the smiling faces of richly-attired dames 
and damsels, whose curiosity was this day strained to its 
highest pitch by the knowledge that all the stir was oc- 
casioned by the preparations for a wedding. And that was 
to be no common wedding, to which they were now ex- 
pecting the advent of the bridegroom elect. The beautiful 
Mary of Burgundy, the wealthiest heiress in Christendom, 
had, with a will of her own, — which she doubtless derived 



396 THE COURT OF AUSTRIA. 

from her wOful father, Charles the Bold, — chosen the 
handsome Maximilian of Anstria as her fnture husband ; 
and now this bridegroom of nineteen summers was about 
to enter Ghent, dressed bravely by means of 100,000 guild- 
ers which Mary's step-mother, Margaret of York, had sent 
him as provisional pocket-money. 

At length he comes proudly along, a goodly target for 
those many curious eyes. Clad in silver-gilt armor, and 
riding on a noble horse, he wears no helmet, but a peer- 
less garland of pearls and precious stones, which sets off to 
the best advantage his golden locks. His long retinue 
consists of electors, princes, bishops, and six hundred nobles. 
As he rides along the streets by torchlight, his fair bride 
comes to meet him ; and, both falling on their knees in 
the road, they embrace each other ; Mary exclaiming, with 
tears of delight, " Welcome to me, thou scion of the noble 
German stock, whom I have so long wished to see, and 
whom I now am so rejoiced to meet ! " On the third day 
after this entry, the handsomest youth of the time was 
united to the beautiful Burgundian heiress ; and thus was 
secured to the House of Hapsburg the splendid dower of 
the Netherlands, with their brisk trade and flourishing 
manufactures, which served first to make Austria really 
considerable as a European power. 

The next emperor was Charles V., who gave a vast in- 
crease of power and influence to the Court of Austria. A 
long line of monarchs have occupied the Austrian throne 
since those days, whose names and history are well known 
to the intelligent reader. The House of Hapsburg still 
wears the crown, which rests on the head of Francis 
Joseph, the present emperor, whose fine portrait accom- 
panies this sketch. 



#'&tl^ 



^ ^^*^^l^ 




^vGijoF. T'PTme K " 



EMPEHOR OP AtrSTBL/-. 



FRANCIS JOSEPH, EMPEROR OF AUSTRIA. 



Francis Joseph, the present Emperor of Austria, was born 
August 18, 1830. He is the son of the Archduke Francis 
Charles Joseph, brother of the Emperor Ferdinand, and of 
Sophia, daughter of Maximilian Josej^h, King of Bavaria. 
In March, 1848, after the expulsion of Louis Philippe from 
France, a revolution followed in Vienna; Prince Metternich 
fled, a free Constitution was prepared, and accepted by 
Ferdinand, who soon afterwards withdrew from Vienna to 
Innspruck. Insurrections against the Austrian power broke 
out in Hungary and Italy, and a Diet for the fonnation 
of a united German Empire was assembled at Fi-ankfort. 
Though Vienna had been taken possession of by the Im- 
perial troops, and though Radetzky had obtained advan- 
tages in Italy, it was felt that a firmer hand than Ferdi- 
nand's was required to secure the Hapsburg dynasty from 
falling. Accordingly Ferdinand abdicated on December 2, 
1848, in favor of his nephew, who, though little more than 
eighteen, was declared of age. Assisted by able counsellors, 
the military aid of Russia, and a course of policy toward 
Hungary that can hardly be styled less than treacherous, 
the revolutionary movement was staid, and what was called 
peace, — a peace maintained only by large military estab- 
lishments, — secured. In the dispute between England and 
France with Russia in 1854, the aim of the Emperor of 
Austi'ia was to trim between the contending powers, and 
he succeeded. Calling himself an ally of the Western allies, 
he protected, as far as he was able, the interests of Russia. 
He thus gained permission to occupy the principalities of 



398 THE COURT OF AUSTRIA. 

Molda\'ia and Wallachia as i^rotector, and made himself one 
of the contracting parties in the peace signed at Paris in 
1856. The other chief events of his reign have been the 
intrigues to maintain the superiority of Austria over Prus- 
sia in the Germanic Diet, in which he has been on the 
whole successful; and the signing of a Concordat with the 
Pope, in the early part of 1856, by which the influence of 
the Roman Catholic Church is made all-poAverful through- 
out the Austrian dominions, and which, it is asserted, is 
the source of much discontent. 

In April, 1854, Francis Joseph was married to Elizabeth, 
daughter of Maximilian Joseph, Duke of Bavaria, by whom 
he has several children. In October, 1857, Francis Joseph 
received a visit at Vienna from Alexander II. of Russia, 
which quieted the apprehensions caused by a preced- 
ing interview of the same monarch with Napoleon III. 
at Stuttgard. While Austrian diplomacy was successful in 
its various operations, it was most successfully active in 
Italy. On New Year's Day, 1859, the Emperor Napoleon 
declared to the diplomatic corps in Paris his dissatisfaction 
with the Italian jjolicy of Francis Joseph, and his few 
words were understood by Austria as a threat, if not as 
a declaration of war. On both sides the most active jDrep- 
arations for a great struggle began. Napoleon demanded 
from Austria the surrender of her private treaties with the 
Italian States, and the evacuation of all non-Austrian terri- 
toi'ies in Italy. Austria demanded from Sardinia a disarma- 
ment and the expulsion of the refugees. None of these 
demands were agreed to. War and a bloody conflict fol- 
lowed between Austria on one side, and Napoleon III. with 
an immense French army and Victor Emmanuel with the 
Sardinian army on the other, which terminated in the 
great battle of Solferino, Jmie twenty-fourth, and the Peace 
of Villafranca, July eleventh. — A more particular account of 
these scenes is given in the sketch of Victor Emmanuel 
on a previous page. — More recent events in Austria and 



FRANCIS JOSEPH, EMPEROR OF AUSTRIA. 399 

Italy are familiar to the public miud. But the political 
elements with which the Emperor of Austria has to con- 
tend scarcely slumber, and are liable to burst forth in 
Italy hke volcanic fires at any time and involve the Con- 
tinent in the calamities of war. 



.*;5^. 




rQillE ElK«[p[KES§ ®[F AOJST[SDA„ 



THE EMPRESS OF AUSTRIA. 



This imperial personage belongs to the royal family of 
Bavaria. Her uncle is the present King of Bavaria, Louis 
I., who is a most munificent patron of the arts, upon which 
he has bestowed immense expenditures of money to beau- 
tify and adorn his capital, the city of Munich, with gal- 
leries of paintings and statuary, to attract the admiration 
of all visitors. Her cousin is King Otho of Greece. Her 
grandfather, Maximilian Joseph, was the first King of Ba- 
varia when Napoleon I. erected it iiito a kingdom in 1806. 
This King gave his daughter in marriage to Prince E'lgene 
Beauharnais, the son of the Empress Josephine, of imperial 
renown. Hence the name of the present Empress of Aus- 
tria is Elizabeth Amelia Eugenie, daughter of the Duke of 
Bavaria, and a descendant of the Empress Josephine. She 
was born in Munich, and educated in all the accomplish- 
ments of royalty as one of the King's daughters. She was 
married to the Emperor Francis Joseph, April 24, 1854. 
She is the mother of three children, — Sopliia, a daughter, 
born in 1855 ; Gisela, in 1856 ; and a son, Rudolph, in 
1858. Sophia died at Buda, in 1857, during an imperial 
journey. The portrait forms a match-print to that of the 
Emperor, both taken at Vienna. 



51 




M 



g 



fcj] 



THE EMPRESS MAEIA THERESA. 



Maria Theresa was born at Vienna in 1717. She was 
the eldest daughter of Charles VI., Emperor of Austria, 
who died in 1740. The succession of Maria Theresa to 
the hereditary dominion of the House of Hapsburg had 
been guaranteed by the principal states of Europe ; but, 
on her father's death, she found herself assailed l)y the 
kings of Prussia, France, Spain, and Sardinia, and the elec- 
tors of Bavaria and Saxony. Each of these princes laid 
claim to some part of the Austrian territory ; and Maria 
Theresa, at the age of twenty-three, was called on to make 
head against the armies of all her neighbors, except the 
Turkish Sultan, who alone acted towards her with fairness 
and good faith. Maria Theresa had been married in 1737, 
to Francis of Louvain, Grand Duke of Tuscany, but he 
was a prince of little intellect or energy ; and it was to 
the spirit of Maria Theresa herself, and the loyalty of her 
Hungarian subjects, that Austria owed its rescue from de- 
struction. When driven from her capital by her enemies, 
Maria Theresa repaired to Presburg, and summoned the 
Hungarian Diet. She appeared in the midst of the martial 
assembly with her infant son in her arms. She addressed 
them earnestly and eloquently in Latin, (a language long 
currently used in Hungary ;) and when she came to the 
words, " The kingdom of Hungary, our persons, our chil- 
dren, our crown, are at stake, — forsaken by all, we seek 
shelter only in the fidelity, the arms, the hereditary valor 
of the renowned Hungarian nobility," the Hungarian no- 
bles, and all present, with one unanimous burst of chival- 



404 THE COURT OF AUSTRIA. 

roiis loyalty, drew their swords, and shouted, "Let us die 
for our king Maria Theresa," [Moriamur j^ro rege nostro 
Maria Theresa.] This was no transient demonstration of 
zeal. The whole military force of Hungary was soon in 
the field : the current of invasion was checked, and by 
degrees the foes of Maria Theresa made peace with her, 
and ceased to reckon on their shares in the dismember- 
ment of Austria. She was obliged to cede Silesia to Fred- 
eric of Prussia; but with this exception she was left in 
full possession of her dominions, when the war of the Aus- 
trian Succession was closed by the Treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle 
in 1758. The loss of Silesia was a deep mortification to 
Maria Theresa, and the hope of recovering that province 
made her take an active part in the Seven Years' War 
against Frederic of Prussia. That contest, however, closed 
in 1763, leaving Prussia in possession of Silesia, and with 
no gain on either side to Maria Theresa or Frederic. 
Maria Theresa's husband had been elected Emperor of 
Germany in 1745, and on his death in 1765, their son 
Joseph was chosen to succeed him. But Maria Theresa 
retained in her own hands, throughout her life, the admin- 
istration of her vast dominions, which were generally gov- 
erned by her in a wise and enlightened spirit. Her private 
character was irreproachable, and the morals and manners 
of her court formed a bright exception to the gi'oss profli- 
gacy by which the courts of nearly all the other sover- 
eigns of the age were disgraced. She was sincerely pious ; 
and Botta, the Italian historian, passes on her the high 
eulogy, that " during a forty years' reign she always 
showed a love of justice and truth." Her share in the 
first partition of Poland is the great stain on the character 
of Maria Theresa. But she came unwillingly into this plot, 
which was urged on her by the sovereigns of Prussia and 
Russia, and by her son, the Emperor Joseph. She is said 
to have left a written record that she consented to this 
measure out of deference to the opinions of others, and 



THE EMPRESS MARIA THERESA. 405 

that she foreboded evil consequences to Europe from tliis 
act of injustice to one of its States. Maria Theresa died 
in 1780. 

Her remains repose in a superb sarcophagus, or metal 
coffiu, among about seventy other coffins of the imperial 
family of Austria* Some of them are of costly workman- 
ship. In the composition of one of them, for the Emperor 
Joseph I., sixteen hundred pounds of pure silver was used, 
as the Capuchin friar who has charge of the mausoleum 
stated to us a few summers ago on tlie spot, while admir- 
ing the imperial grandeur of this silent and sad family 
gathering under the dome of the Capuchin Church in 
Vienna. Every Friday for thirteen years after the death 
of her husband, did Maria Theresa descend into this mau- 
soleum to pray and weep by the side of his remains. 
Among this coffined imperial family are the second Em- 
press, and the only son of the Emperor Napoleon I., 
the young Duke of Reichstadt, whose sarcophagus is of 
copper. 



PRINCE KAUNITZ. 



Tins personage, who appears in the print, pen in hand, 
at the council-table, with Maria Theresa, as her Prime Min- 
ister, was an Austrian statesman. He was born in 1711, 
at Vienna, and educated for the Church. In 1744 he was 
appointed Mmister of State for the kingdoms of Bohemia 
and Hungary, and afterwards was sent as ambassador to 
Paris. On his return to Vienna in 1753, he was appointed 
Chancellor of State, and made a Prince of the Empire in 
1764. He died in 1794. 

To Prince Kaunitz Austria was indebted for two great 
alterations in her policy : the one was the entering 
into alliance with her traditional enemy, France ; and 
the other, the expulsion of the Jesuits. This sharp- 
witted beau soon pushed aside the bungling Bartenstein 
and the other corrupt officials of the old school, and 
established himself in that high reputation for the suc- 
cessful management of affiiirs which caused him long to 
be styled " the driver of the European coach." While 
ambassador at Paris he plunged eagerly into all its gay- 
eties and excesses, and was so thoroughly imljued with 
admiration for all that was French that he never rested 
till he had eftected that alliance, which, cemented by the 
mai-riage of Louis XVI. with Marie Antoinette, lasted 
till the Revolution, which deprived them both of life. 
Little could the astute Austrian perceive of the deluge 
which was coming to sweep away that rotten old state- 



408 THE COURT OF AUSTRIA. 

fabric. Mixing but wdth courtiers like himself, he knew 
and cared nothing about the new ideas which were al- 
ready fermenting amongst the French philosophers and 
commonalty, and which at last burst forth in such a 
dii'e ebullition. 




rvuivi c.u at u rs. j niftf 



KNli^'iil'J.iiAri'I^N. 



^srr^ mm^mnm^m sda/^ih] of FEiRi^go^a 



THE COURT OF PERSIA. 



THE SHAH OF PEESIA. 

This Oriental monarch appears, as represented in the 
engraving, on a state occasion, at his court, wearing his 
triple cro\vn, radiant and sparkling with precious gems and 
innumerable diamonds of the purest water, and of immense 
value, which blaze around his neck, shoulders, and arms ; 
thus exhibiting and illustrating the splendor of Oriental 
magnificence. As an Oriental monarch over the Empire of 
Persia, and recently at war with England, whose ambassa- 
dor was received, a few months since, with great considera- 
tion at the Imperial Court of France, his portrait in the 
splendor of Eastern costume is an object of interest and 
curiosity, with which we trust our readers will be pleased. 
We only add a brief biographical sketch of this illustrious 
personage. 

The present sovereign, Mohammed Nassr-ed-din-Shah, as- 
cended the throne in April, 1849. He was then sixteen 
years of age, and lived away from the court with one of 
his uncles, the governor of Tabriz. He succeeded to the 
throne in virtue of his being the nearest of kin in the 
collateral line of the celebrated Feth ali-Shah, or Bal)a- 
khan. Nassr-ed-din-Shah is the fourth sovereign of the 
Turcoman dynasty of the Kadjars, the origin of whom is 
curious. The dynasty which preceded that of the Kadjars 
was founded in the Ibllowing manner : Under the reign of 
the Sophis there lived a camel-driver whose bravery pro- 

52 



410 THE COURT OF PERSIA. 

cured for him the obedience of a number of his compan- 
ions, who foniied themselves into a band, and under his 
direction, crowned several most successful exjieditions with 
the conquest of the province of Khorasan. Their leader, 
Nadir, usurped the throne of Persia on the death of 
Abas UI., and caused himself to be proclaimed Shah, or 
Sovereign of Persia. Nadir Shah brought under sulyection 
Candahar, Cabul, and several provinces of the Mogul Em- 
pire. He was killed, in 17-i7, by his first lieutenant, whose 
eyes he had the intention of putting out. His succes.sor, 
Thamasp-Kouli Khan II., reigned only a few years. Fear- 
ful disorders broke out at his death in Persia, and several 
pretenders to the throne arose. Amongst these was a 
member of the tribe of Kadjars, which signifies fugitives, 
named Mohammed Macan-Khan, who conquered Mazandaran 
and other provinces, and captured Ispahan ; he was on the 
point of conquering all Persia when he fell into the hands 
of a rival, who beheaded him in 1758. His son, Aga 
Mohammed Khan, succeeded in proclaiming himself Shah 
of Persia, in 1794, and he founded the present dynasty. 
Since 1705, the Court of Persia resides at Teheran ; for- 
merly Ispahan had been the capital of the kingdom. In 
summer the court is driven away from Teheran by the 
heat, and encamps from June first to September thirtieth 
at the foot of the Elboorz mountains, in the valley of 
Goolahek. The ambassadors and great authorities, with the 
richest inhabitants of the town, accompany the court, and 
form a magnificent canvas town. The present Shah is of a 
very mild disposition, and is deeply attached to his mother, 
who governs his private household. She is only about 
forty years of age, and is still very beautiful. She has for 
a secretary a French woman, who married, in Paris, a Per- 
sian noljleman, and accompanied her husband to his native 
home, after having embraced his religion. The Shah has 
five children, to whom he is greatly attached. 

Feroukh Khan, the Persian ambassador to Paris, on his 



THE SHAH OF PERSIA. 411 

arrival some time since handed to the Emjieror, in the 
name and on the jjart of his sovereign, the Royal Order 
of Persia, and presents for the Empress and the Imperial 
Prince. 

The ambassador wore a magnificent cashmere gown, 
trimmed with fur, and ornamented with diamond clasps, 
white kerseymere pantaloons with gold stripes, and the 
Astrakan cap. Two of his suite wore the same costume. 
He wears a beard, black and rich, such as few dijolomatic 
chins could grow. His eyes are black, piercing, and his 
figure graceful. Among those who accompany him are 
said to be two cousins of the Sovereign of Persia ; and 
they wear a white scarf over their rich uniforms, no doubt 
as a sign of their being " born in the purple chamber." 



THE END. 



